


49 Hours

by ScribeOfRhapsody



Series: Hours of an Alternate Life [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blackmail, Friendship, Gen, HighSpecs, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Pre-Fall, Sassy uncooperative Ignis, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Treason, first kill, minor hints of romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-01-09 22:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 58,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12285336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeOfRhapsody/pseuds/ScribeOfRhapsody
Summary: Kidnapping wasn't what Aranea signed up for, but now she doesn't have a choice if she wants to keep herself and her men alive.Being kidnapped wasn't what Ignis signed up for, but he doesn't have a choice at all.





	1. 3/49

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, surprise! Hey, guys! So, since I’m slowing the updates for Another Butterfly Effect until Episode Ignis is out, I had time to work on this other little story idea I wanted to do. Bit darker than I normally go, but I’m okay with that. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Secondly and more IMPORTANTLY: yes, this is tagged as Highspecs, but romance is by no means the focus of the fic. The relationship with Ignis and Aranea for the greater part of this fic will be more along the lines of mutual respect and Aranea wanting to do what she considers to be the right thing, and that’s why this story is labeled as Gen rather than F/M.

No. Oh, hell no. This had better not be what she thought it was.

 

“I don’t much like the looks of this, Lady A,” Biggs echoed the same words he’d used a few hours ago when they’d first received their orders.

 

Then, he’d followed that sentence up with something along the lines of _the details are pretty vague on this one._

 

She’d noticed the lack of details too, but she’d brushed it off. What they needed transported was probably just something classified they wanted to keep under wraps.

 

And then she’d noticed the location of the pickup.

 

Insomnia. The Crown City itself. Well, just _outside_ the city, the orders said. Aranea and her men weren’t supposed to go in. They were supposed to wait and pick up the weaselly little Tummelt and his men with whatever he was supposed to deliver and get them back to Niflheim, and that would be that. Wham, bam, done, and home for a drink before it got too late.

 

Then Tummelt had signaled for backup. Still inside the city. Which of course meant Aranea was going to have to rescue his ass since they were the only ship in range.

 

She expected to find him running throughout the city with his tail between his legs and clinging to some documents while the MTs covered his flank from a horde of Glaives or something. She was _not_ expecting to find him calmly standing around scowling in an alleyway at 1 a.m. as he stood over the form of some tied up, fancy-dressed young Lucian who was glaring from beneath the messy bangs across his forehead.

 

Aranea’s heels clicked against the concrete in sync with Biggs and Wedge’s heavier steps as she strolled down the alleyway. “Loqi, I’m about to ask what this is, and your answer is _not_ going to be _a kidnapping_.” She purposefully used his first name and no rank because she knew it irritated him.

 

Tummelt’s mouth twisted like he’d bit into something distasteful. “It’s a package acquisition and delivery.”

 

“Package?” Biggs repeated incredulously. “This idn’t one of ya robots, y’know?”

 

Biggs was sure right about that. The Lucian’s very human eyes were locked on her now, observing and calculative behind the crack in the lens of one side of his glasses. Huh. Well, he seemed level-headed in this situation for someone in desk-worker clothes.

 

“I don’t recall us paying you to think, grunt.”

 

Biggs bristled. “’Scuse me? Okay, let’s get some things straight here, mate – I don’t work for you. I work for Lady A.”

 

“Fine. Highwind, rein in your yipping dog, will you?”

 

“ _Oi_ ,” Wedge growled lowly.

 

Astrals, she hated this guy. Aranea swiveled to face Loqi, hands settling on her hips. “Here’s an idea, Loqi – how about not biting the hand that’s here to save your ass? Or are you forgetting that you called us for help?”

 

Tummelt snapped his mouth shut, glowering.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Lucian tugging at the ropes around his wrists. Not trying to get out of them, it looked like, just rolling his wrists to keep the blood flowing. Good grief, why were those ropes so tight? Was Tummelt trying to make the guy lose his hands? “So, this is a kidnapping, then? That was your mission?” _You better say no, you bastard._

 

“Yes,” Tummelt said simply, as though it were no big deal. “Me and my men were to obtain him and the documents he was carrying, and see him to a secure location for questioning.”

 

Questioning. Right. Because they didn’t know what he really meant by that at all.

 

“’Oo is he, anyway?” Wedge asked.

 

Tummelt shot the Lucian a glare. “A nuisance. The prince’s advisor in training.”

 

Aranea made a show of looking around. “I don’t see any documents. Or your men. And you smell like a fireplace.”

 

If possible, Tummelt’s glare hardened. “There was a complication.” Aranea could have sworn she saw the corner of the Lucian’s mouth turn upwards for a moment before Tummelt continued. “It appears that the prince is honing his magical abilities – his tutor here happened to have a contained flask of a fire spell on him. Most of my men were dead before they realized the danger, and the little whelp tossed the documents into the flames as well.”

 

“You’ll gain no information from me.” The Lucian held his chin up high as he spoke for the first time in precise, accented words. “Subject me to what torture you will.”

 

Tummelt replied by delivering a swift kick to the Lucian’s ribs. “Keep speaking and I’ll do just that!”

 

The Lucian grunted at the impact, pulling his knees closer to shield his torso.

 

Oh, boy. This guy had courage, she’d give him that. Courage and training, and he was clearly good at keeping calm in a stressful situation and a quick thinker, but she wondered how that would hold up under actual torture. Now that she was studying him further, she realized how green he was at this game. The classy white shirt and pressed vest and slacks didn’t exactly scream of someone used to getting their hands dirty. Not to mention he was young. It was hard to guess an exact age in the dark in addition to the swelling bruises around his left eye, but she’d guess early twenties for his age. Oh. And his leg was definitely broken. Wow. Tummelt broke the leg of the captive he needed to get out of the city. Brilliant idea.

 

“To be honest, it looks like you already got started on the torture.” Aranea raised an eyebrow. “You got something against zip ties?” The Lucian’s wrists were already dark with bruises and on the verge of bleeding.

 

Tummelt scoffed. “I tried. He’s escaped from them. Twice. After that, I turned to other measures.”

 

“If you’re fishing for an apology, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed,” the Lucian hissed. “Just as I’m certain your commanding officers will be in your incompetence.”

 

Tummelt drew his hand back to strike the Lucian across the face, but Aranea cut in, grabbing his arm. “Easy, hotshot. He’s winding you up.”

 

Biggs laughed, shaking his head. “He’s playin’ you like a fiddle, mate.”

 

“What?” Tummelt demanded, yanking his hand free.

 

“He can’t talk if he’s dead,” Wedge said flatly.

 

“Get it yet, genius?” Aranea leaned closer to Tummelt, narrowing her eyes through the slits of her helmet. “He’s provoking you. You lose your cool and kill him, he can’t give you information. Or, even better, you misstep and the Lucian authorities get an advantage. You need to keep a cool head.”

 

Going by the subtle shift of the Lucian’s jaw and the sudden glower in his eyes, she’d pegged his plan pretty well.

 

There was no way he had personal experience with this kind of situation before, but he was making very calculated and precise moves. He was trying to take control of the situation in whatever ways he could, and it was almost textbook in the way he was doing it. Was a preparation class for this sort of thing required for the Crownsguard, or was he just a very prepared person?

 

“Or perhaps he just needs to learn to control his tongue.” Tummelt reached forwards, yanking on the tie around the Lucian’s neck and working it loose until he slid it off the guy’s neck and stuffed part of it into his mouth and tied it again, effectively gagging him.

 

Again, wow. Tummelt needed to resort to that to keep the Lucian from getting to him? She gave him an hour – tops – until the Glaives managed to catch him. “Well, good luck with this, Tummelt.” She jerked her chin the direction they’d come from. “Boys, we’re leaving.”

 

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Tummelt demanded.

 

“You heard me,” she growled, letting her anger show for the first time. “Look, you guys might have hired me, but I have conditions, and I sure as hell didn’t sign up for kidnapping someone barely old enough to buy alcohol.”

 

“I’m nineteen, actually. Though I’ll take your assumption that I was older as a compliment.”

 

What the… how? Aranea almost snickered at the Lucian sitting there with his “gag” flopped around his neck like it had never been tightened at all.

 

And secondly… _nineteen?_ Hell, she hadn’t been giving him enough credit. She couldn’t think of him as a kid like she normally would of someone that age. He was handling things way too well for that.

 

“Quiet!” Tummelt snapped at the Lucian before returning his fury-filled gaze to her. “I couldn’t care less about personal issues, Highwind. You _will_ do your job. If not, I will make certain you and your men don’t leave this city alive.”

 

“Oh, yeh?” Biggs stepped behind Aranea, backing her up. “You called us for help, mate. Remember dat? Wut you gonna do to stop us?”

 

Aranea would never be intimidated by this rat, but she did not like the smirk forming on his face. “Oh, personally I can do nothing, but I’m certain my contact within the Glaives won’t take kindly to this mission failing due to you choosing not to do what you’re paid for. He’s been very kindly leading the Glaives to search in the wrong places thus far, but I’m certain he could make sure the lockdown at the edge of the city was much harder to get past should you try to leave without me and the package.”

 

Dammit. Of course he had a contact in Lucis. There was no way he could have gotten this far without one – he was incompetent on his own. That contact had probably given him the info on this guy to kidnap him in the first place. Probably been running the Glaives in circles to keep them off Loqi’s trail for hours. No wonder the Lucians hadn’t been able to track Tummelt down yet.

 

And double dammit, Biggs and Wedge were here. Normally, she’d take her chances at being able to sneak or fight her way past a blockade, but that wasn’t their area of expertise, and she couldn’t endanger their lives like that. She was in charge. She had an obligation not to get them killed on a mission as craptastic as this. Even if they walked away now and didn’t go near the blockade, Tummelt could get his contact to make the Glaives chase after them while he slipped by.

 

There were only two real options: kill Tummelt, or help him. Oh, how she would have no problems with that first option, but having the whole Empire after her and her men was also not an ideal result. Tummelt’s contact had to know she was in town. If Tummelt died without the Glaives’ involvement, the guy was bound to put the pieces together.

 

That only left her with one option that got her and Biggs and Wedge out safely.

 

“You’ll want to watch who you threaten, Loqi,” Aranea hissed at him. “We may – as you’ve pointed out – need you to get out of here now, but that won’t always be the case. You’ll find I don’t respond well to blackmail.”

 

“No, you respond well to being paid, and I will see that you are once we’ve escaped this wretched city.”

 

Dear Astrals, the gall of this guy. He threatened to have her and her men killed, and then he tried to placate her with promises of money? Yeah, like that was going to keep any hard feelings from being formed. She was a mercenary, sure, but it didn’t work like that.

 

A ringtone cut off her retort before she could even start to get it out, and Tummelt pulled out what looked like a stolen Lucian phone.

 

“They’ll be searching this sector soon – we must move.” Tummelt grabbed the Lucian’s arm and tried to drag him to his feet. “Get up.”

 

Aranea rolled her eyes. “How do you expect him to move with us when you broke his leg, dumbass?” She pulled a potion from her pocket, pushing Tummelt away as she knelt down next to the Lucian. “Well, at least you set it properly… This should heal it right up.”

 

“I set it, actually,” the Lucian said, patiently waiting as she cracked the potion over his leg. The bruising on his face was washed clean, the swelling vanishing as well. Huh. So maybe he was only nineteen.

 

“Of course you did.” Aranea sighed, looking over her shoulder. “Didn’t really think that one through, did you?”

 

“Spare me your self-righteous, know-everything comments, Highwind, and get the rat to his feet so we can leave.” Tummelt continued looking at his phone. “Looks as though we’ll be taking the sewers to go beneath the patrol.”

 

“Oh, goodie. _Sewers._ ” Biggs’ tone dripped sarcasm.

 

Wedge moved over to stand by Aranea as she pulled the healing Lucian to his feet. “Are we really goin’ along with this, Lady A? Handin’ this kid over to be tortured and killed?”

 

“I’m not a child,” the Lucian groused.

 

“Shh.” Aranea tried to hush him before lowering her voice. “Look, Wedge, I’m not happy about this either, but the asshole has got us backed into a corner. We go along for now.”

 

“Right.” Wedge nodded. “Whateva’ ’appens, y’know you’ve got our support.”

Of course she did. That’s why she wouldn’t let them die on her watch.

 

“Right, let’s go.” Aranea directed the Lucian forwards, not missing the gleam in his eyes. Clever guy. He was already forming a plan, she could tell. He was going to use their hesitance on this mission to his advantage. Great. Now she was going to have to look out for that too. She didn’t want to turn the guy over to be tortured, but if it came down to his life against Biggs and Wedge’s, she would choose her men every time.

 

Still… she had to wonder about this clever guy. What led someone so young who lived behind the safety of Insomnia’s Wall to be this sharp and collected in this kind of situation? What kind of life did he have?


	2. 0/49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I must say that I am VERY pleased the with the feedback I’ve gotten on this fic thus far! And I’m super happy to see that a lot of my ABE regular reviewers are following this story too! You guys are the best! Thanks for joining me on these fun little journeys!

Ignis grunted as his toes were trampled upon for approximately the eightieth time that night.

 

“…Sorry.” Noct winced, looking caught between feeling guilty and fed up.

 

Ignis sighed, waiting for the throbbing to die down once more. If he’d learned anything in the past week, it was that the Prince of Lucis had positively no sense of rhythm. None whatsoever.

 

He took a deep breath, reminding himself that these lessons were a request specifically from the King himself. “You’re moving into that third step far too quickly, Noct. And your steps are too large.”

 

Noct huffed, pulling his hands away from Ignis and stepping back to cross his arms. Ignis couldn’t blame him for that. Neither of them were particularly prone to random acts of physical contact such as Prompto and Gladio’s claps on the shoulder, and the two of them having to attempt to dance together could only be described as entirely awkward at best.

 

“Not my fault you’re as tall as an anak,” Noct huffed again. “And you just told me to take _bigger_ steps yesterday!”

 

Patience. He _would_ be patient. “That was during a waltz. This a carbuncletrot.”

 

“ _Right._ ” Noct scratched the back of his head. “Waltz is the super boring slow one.”

 

“…It’s the elegant one, yes.” Personally, Ignis was rather fond of waltzes.

 

“It’s boring. At least this one is more exciting to watch.” He lowered his voice to a mutter. “Even if I still don’t see why I have to learn it…”

 

“Noct…” Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ve been through this.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know – I’ll need it for official ceremonies. Except my dad doesn’t dance at those. He never has! Even before the cane…”

 

Ignis dropped his hand. “Well, of course not, he–” He snapped his mouth shut, realizing what he was about to say.

 

Noct frowned. “What?”

 

“…Nothing. Pay it no mind.”

 

Noct’s frown deepened. “No, what is it?”

 

Of course he wasn’t going to let it drop. Ignis met his Prince’s gaze softly. “Your mother, Noct… Your father never had someone to dance _with._ ”  

 

Noct’s eyes fell. “…Oh. Yeah… I guess that probably had something to do with it…”

 

Well. This lesson had gone downhill quickly. After a few moments of silence, Ignis cleared his throat. “Well… Astrals willing, you’ll have some lovely woman to dance with even decades after you take the throne.”

 

Noctis’ eyes bulged momentarily. “Geez, Specs, isn’t it a bit early to start planning my fifties? I’m seventeen!”

 

Ignis chuckled. “I was merely speculating. Now, I do believe that’s good enough for tonight since you have school in the morning.” Ignis moved over to the couch to retrieve his jacket. “Just remember, your steps are a pattern. Quick, quick, _slow_. Listen to some music to find your rhythm if you can’t find it on your own.”  

 

“Yeah, I’m not listening to that crap in my free time.” Noct plopped back onto his couch, grabbing some orb from the table in front of him and tossing it from hand to hand.

 

Ignis sighed, folding his jacket over his arm. “As you wish. We’ll have your next lesson tomorrow evening, then– dear Astrals, Noct, be careful with that!”

 

Noct stopped tossing the magical flask. “Oh, chill, Specs. I’ve been getting really good with this stuff.”

 

“That is no excuse to be literally throwing around explosives in your apartment!” Ignis moved over and gently plucked it from his hand. “Even if you are careful with it, a guest could knock it from the table. I take it you don’t wish for Prompto to become a hole in the floor?”

 

“Fine, fine,” Noctis grumbled.

 

Ignis tucked the fire flask into his coat pocket. “Why did you even have that here?”

 

Noct shrugged. “Leftover from training. Forgot I had it on me until I got home.”

 

“I’ll return it to the training area.” Ignis headed for the door. “Goodnight, Highness.”

 

“See you tomorrow, Specs.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was still early in the twenty-second hour of the day when Ignis arrived in the parking garage beneath his apartment. Home at last for the night. Now he needed only go over the documents he was currently carrying with him, and then he could turn in for the night.

 

Grabbing the case that held the documents, Ignis shut his car door. He frowned faintly, looking around. It seemed darker than usual in the parking garage tonight.

 

The familiar buzzing of his phone drew his attention from the lights, and he pulled out his phone as he started walking. He gave the screen a brief glance before answering. “Good evening, Gladio.”

 

“ _Hey, Iggy. Sorry for the lateness of the call, but I gotta favor to ask you._ ”

 

“No apology necessary. What was it you needed?” What on Eos? It was still darker than normal. How many lights were out?

 

“ _You know that cake you made a few weeks back that you let me take home? Well, Iris has been raving about it ever since, and her birthday is in a couple weeks…_ ”

 

Ignis chuckled. “Ahh, I see. I would be happy to recreate that particular recipe for her, of course.”

 

Wait… was that…?

 

Footstep echoes. They weren’t his own.

 

“Thanks, Iggy! I owe you one–”

 

“Gladio,” Ignis cut him off sharply, keeping his voice low and calm. “Are you with your father?”

 

“ _…Yeah, why?_ ”

 

Ignis tightened his grip on the handle of the briefcase. “I’d like to speak with him. Please.”

 

“ _…Sure. One second._ ”

 

There was a pause as the phone changed hands, and Ignis picked up the echoes again. An average person would likely have missed them while on their phone, or dismissed them as their own, but no. He’d studied these types of situations far too much for that.

 

“ _Yes?_ ”

 

Ignis released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Mr. Amicitia. My apologies for interrupting your night, but I am ninety percent certain that I’m being tailed.”

 

“ _Where are you?_ ” Clarus’ tone turned cold and professional in an instant.

 

“Parking garage. My apartment building.”

 

_Breathe in._

 

“ _Do you have any classified information on you?_ ”

 

_Breathe out._

 

“Yes.”

 

“ _Any way of disposing of it?_ ”

 

It had rained that day, but there was no water here. The garage was dry. No window to throw them out of. But… he did have one option. It was risky, but it was all he had.

 

The fire flask still sat snugly in his pocket.

 

“Potentially.”

 

“ _That’s your priority, then._ ”

 

“Understood.” He was almost to the elevator now. His tail would have to act soon.

 

“ _I’ll have the Glaives on their way momentary. Buy as much time as you can._ ”

 

“Of course.” The steps were close now. Any moment.

 

“ _And Ignis? Give them hell._ ”

 

“I’ll do my best.”

 

“ _Godspeed._ ”

 

The line went dead, and Ignis stopped walking, dropping his phone to the ground before crushing it with the heel of his boot. He would take no chances of them being able to break the encryption.

 

He raised his voice, and it was jarring even to him in the quiet of the garage. “I’m afraid your approach was less stealthy than you’d intended.”

 

The first step of buying time: attempting to get his persecutor talking. Once a fight started, it could only last so long, no matter which way it went. He had to stall here as long as possible.

 

Ignis slowly reached inside his coat pocket, retrieving the flask with his right hand as he gripped the case with his left. He swiveled around to face the rest of the garage, making sure his expression was schooled into something neutral. Unreadable.

 

There was a span of silence so long that someone else might have started to think they were mistaken and resumed walking. Ignis stayed absolutely still, waiting.

 

“You’re quite observant, Lucian.”

 

_Lucian._ There went any small hope he might have had about this being a normal mugging or something along those lines.

 

Ignis swallowed, breathing slowly to calm his heart rate as an armored Imperial stepped into what little light was left in the area. The man oozed an attitude of superiority as he smirked, several men flanking him.

 

These odds were not in Ignis’ favor. “I don’t suppose you all are lost and in need of directions?” _One, two, three…_ There were at least four men aside from the main Imperial. How had they done this? How could they have gotten this many men through Insomnia’s defenses?

 

“I see you’re a witty one, but I doubt that will last.” The Imperial’s gaze locked onto the briefcase. “I’ll be needing those.”

 

Ignis raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a particular interest on the history of agriculture in the Cleigne region?”

 

The Imperial’s expression twisted to irritation rather quickly. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

 

Ignis scoffed. “You’re about to either try and kill me or take me captive – I think I’m well within reason to insult you however I like.”

 

The Imperial was not amused. “You have an option here, Lucian. I can promise you things will be much better for you should you cooperate.”

 

Cooperate with the Empire? Over his rotting corpse would they get these documents. But he couldn’t afford to say that. Now wasn’t the time to keep provoking.

 

He held his tongue for just a few seconds, appearing to consider the offer. Hoping it didn’t seem too forced or fake, he let the rigid set of his shoulders slack and his eyes drop. “…My family… If I cooperate, do I have your assurance that they’ll not be harmed?”

 

As if that was even a concern. They couldn’t have the manpower or resources in the city for anyone he cared about to be in danger.

 

The Imperial put a hand over his heart, looking pleased. “You have my word.” Oh yes, he was probably very keen on this not ending in a fight. “Now, those papers, if you would?”

 

Ignis subtly nodded, laying the case on the ground. He kicked with just enough force to slide it about halfway between them.

 

“A wise choice.” The Imperial beckoned his men forwards, two of them moving for the briefcase and two for Ignis himself.

 

His palms felt sweaty beneath his gloves, and he clutched the flask tighter. Just a few more moments…

 

One Imperial’s fingers wrapped around the briefcase’s handle, and Ignis whipped his arm around, spiking the flask onto the concrete beside the case. In the split second the flask was in the air, Ignis sent up a silent prayer.

 

He didn’t know how powerful the spell was. It might be nothing, something that would fail at what he needed it to do. Or it could kill all of them right now.

 

He turned to his side, shielding his head with his hands on the chance that it might help.

 

When he thought back on it later, Ignis would realize that the Imperial that had been about to grab him was the only thing that saved his life. A human shield that kept the blast from hitting him in full force. As things were, all he could suddenly see was fire and smoke, and all he could hear was the ringing of his ears as he hit the wall next to the elevator and collapsed to the floor.

 

Well. That was the documents taken care of, at least.

 

Ignis blinked, trying to drag himself off the ground. That couldn’t be all of the Imperials. They weren’t all close enough. He willed his daggers to appear in his hands, but they stubbornly refused, remaining stuck in the Armiger and shrouded by his unfocused mind, just out of reach.

 

He could only watch – reflexes too dull at the moment to intervene – as the main Imperial that had spoken to him rushed at him from out of the smoke and landed a gloved punch across his face.

 

In that instant, the ringing stopped. The confusion stopped.

 

All was silent.

 

All was dark.

 

And then he lurched into awareness to find his hands tied.

 

Ignis clinched his fists.

 

_Give them hell_ , Clarus had said.

 

Oh, Ignis would. He most definitely would.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And he will…


	3. 3-5/49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which there are granola bars...

Aranea found resisting punching Tummelt in the face to be even harder than she’d anticipated as Biggs and Wedge worked to slide the cover from the sewer entrance. She never would have ordered them to do something like that while she stood back and watched – if they were getting their hands dirty, so would she. But no. Now she had to stand here and keep a hand on their captive while Biggs and Wedge worked and Tummelt did absolutely nothing.

 

“ _Join the Empire,_ they said,” Biggs grunted, dropping the metal covering to the side. “ _It’ll be fun,_ they said.” He dusted off his gloved palms. “Funny, I don’t remember sewers bein’ one of the selling points.”

 

Tummelt rolled his eyes. “Mercenaries. No discipline to keep you from whining.”

 

Aranea was this close to snapping at him when the Lucian helpfully piped up.

 

“Perhaps not, but at least they have to be capable in order to receive assignments…”

 

Tummelt’s backhand landed solidly across the Lucian’s face, nearly knocking his glasses off. “You are fortunate I need you to speak later, or I’d cut out your tongue now!”

 

“Easy, Loqi!” Aranea hissed. “Him talking won’t do much good if he has brain damage by then.” Geez. Why was she – the _mercenary_ – the one who was actually concerned with how the prisoner was treated while Loqi apparently had no such values? Whatever the case, even with her discomfort about the kidnapping aside, roughing up someone who couldn’t fight back went against her code.

 

Well, if the guy wasn’t going to keep himself from injury, she was going to do it for him. She turned, facing the Lucian as Biggs started to climb down the hole. “Sorry, but you’re not getting yourself killed on my watch.” She grabbed the tie around his neck, making it into a proper gag this time that he wouldn’t be able to get out of so easily.

 

He glared at her accusingly.

 

“Don’t give me that.” She finished the knot behind his head. “I’m trying to _save_ your ass.”

 

He scoffed, air puffing out of his nose in a huff.

 

Yeah, she wasn’t fooling anyone, including herself. It didn’t really count as saving when they were just delivering him to something worse than death. She was trying to save her _own_ ass, along with Biggs and Wedge’s.

 

“Come on.” She prodded him towards the hole in the ground.

 

Surprisingly, the stench was not as bad as Aranea was expecting as she jumped into the hole after the others had already gone down. She landed smoothly at the bottom of the ladder, causing the Lucian to blink at her in obvious surprise. Surprise quickly turned to curiosity, and he tilted his head, observing her once more.

 

Aranea almost snickered. Really? He was a gagged hostage and he was staring at her like a textbook. What an odd guy.

 

Okay, time to focus on the task at hand. “All right, Loqi, where are we headed?”

 

Tummelt gestured, a grimace on his face that was probably about the smell. “This way. We should be able to cut under the Glaives’ search and then return to the surface in a few hours.”

 

“I hope not too many ’ours. We stay down here long and they’ll just be able to tracks us by how we smell…” Biggs said, his nose wrinkled.

 

“Would you like to join the Lucian in being gagged?” Loqi snapped.

 

Biggs looked anything but threatened.  

 

Aranea sighed raggedly. “Let’s just go already.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Babe, come on, let me inside! I just want to talk!”

 

“Go to hell, Miles!”

 

“Oh, come on, babe, don’t be like that! I was drunk!”

 

Rolling his eyes, Nyx threw his dagger, warping to the next rooftop. He couldn’t even think with those two screaming at each other, let alone hearing if someone was sneaking around.

 

“ _I don’t see nothin’ in my sector,_ ” Libertus said over the comm. “ _What about you, Nyx?_ ”

 

Nyx kept running, scanning the streets below as he tapped his comm. “Negative. The altercation in my area was some idiot trying to get back with his girlfriend after he slept with her sister.”

 

The was a snort that Nyx recognized as Luche’s. “ _How’s that going for him?_ ”

 

“Yeah, not so good.” Nyx warped again, heading for higher ground as he yanked off his visor. Hard enough to see out here without that. “Pelna, anything?”

 

“ _Huuughrrma._ ”

 

Nyx frowned. “Come again?”

 

“ _Oh, for love of Lucis – are you throwing up again, Pelna?_ ” Crowe asked. “ _Maybe you should lay off the warp-strikes for a bit and stick to the streets._ ”

 

There was a groan. “ _I’m fine. Nothing to report here, I just took those last jumps a little too quick._ ”

 

“ _You sure it wasn’t those last few shots earlier that you took too quick?_ ” Luche snarked back.

 

“ _Oh, shut up._ ”

 

“ _Wait, are you drunk right now?_ ” Crowe demanded.

 

“ _No! Just a little tipsy…_ ”

 

“You have gotta be kidding me,” Nyx muttered. Really? Pelna? He was usually one of the most responsible Glaives there was.

 

“ _Look, tomorrow was my day off! How was I supposed to know I was going to get called back in before midnight?_ ”

 

Fair enough. “Just keep looking, okay?”

 

“ _Yeah… Every minute that goes by, there’s less of a chance of us finding that kid,_ ” Libertus said. “ _He needs us._ ”

 

Nyx chuckled softly.

 

“ _…What? What did I say?_ ”

 

“Nothing.” Nyx squinted. Damn. Those streetlights were just bright enough to throw off his night vision and just dim enough not to help him see anything. “You’ve just never met Scientia.”

 

“ _And you have?_ ” Tredd piped up.

 

“I’ve seen him around.” Nyx shook his head, warping down to a lower building. This view wasn’t getting him anywhere. “Acts like he’s about thirty. Clever. He may be a captive at the moment, but I wouldn’t dismiss the possibility of him causing those Imperials a hell of a lot of trouble and making things easier for us.”

 

“ _Well, let’s hope so, because we’ve got a lot of ground to cover…_ ” Crow said.

Yeah. They really did. A _lot_ of ground.

 

* * *

 

 

Tummelt stopped suddenly, squinting at some graffiti on an actually dry wall of the sewer. “We wait here.”

 

_Graffiti._ Yeah, that was no normal graffiti. If this escape was at all planned, Tummelt’s source would have known there’d be no signal down here. This had to be a message of some kind.

 

Aranea placed one hand on her hip, the other still lightly holding onto the Lucian’s arm. “For how long?”

 

“A few hours at least while the Glaive search above.” Loqi moved over to the dry area and took a seat leaning against the wall. “Best we rest up while we can.”

 

That was the first smart thing Tummelt had said so far. Biggs didn’t waste a moment, moving over to sit uncomfortably close to Tummelt as he tossed him an obviously fake smile. Tummelt inched away less than subtly.

 

Aranea nudged the Lucian over to another dry spot a few feet away, gently pressing on his shoulder to get him to sit. The Lucian did so with surprising compliancy, closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall as he pulled his knees close and rested his tied hands on top of them.

 

Hah. No, he wasn’t cooperating, he was trying to conserve and gain strength for when he could put it to better use. Not that he’d be able to put up much of a fight with his hands in that condition.

 

Despite having that potion not too long ago, his wrists were already bright red again. The ropes were just too tight. And not tied correctly.

 

“Six, who taught you how to tie a knot, Loqi?” Aranea scowled. “Wedge, think you can do better than that?”

 

Wedge squinted at the ropes from beside Aranea. “Yeah. I’ve got it.”

 

Aranea moved and let him kneel down in front of the Lucian. “Do yourself a favor and don’t try anything.”

 

The Lucian replied with a single nod.

 

“Do be careful,” Tummelt growled. “It was a false act of complacency that he used to kill most of my men.”

 

The Lucian actually didn’t try anything, though. He just watched Wedge untie and retie the knots before bowing his head in reluctant thanks at the two of them.

 

“Anyone ’ungry?” Biggs pulled a granola bar from his coat pocket. “I got plenty to go around.”  

 

Of course he did, Aranea thought fondly. Biggs and Wedge both kept a hundred and one things in the various pockets of their coats. “Well, not like we’re going to get room service down here. I’ll take one.”

 

“Me too.” Wedge sat next to the Lucian, holding his hand up. Biggs tossed them each one.

 

“You?” Biggs offered one to Tummelt.

 

Tummelt waved him off. “Not with this stench. I’m afraid it’s rather ruined any appetite I might have had.”

 

“Oh, so you get to complain about the smell, but I don’t?” Biggs snorted. “What about our… guest?”

 

“Well, we can’t have him passing out because of low blood sugar, now can we?” There. Tummelt could hardly argue with that, even if he did have an objection to feeding his prisoners – which she didn’t at all doubt. “Toss me another one.”

 

Biggs did so, and Aranea held up both of them in front of the Lucian. “Chocolate chip or oatmeal raisin?”

 

The Lucian gave her a flat stare, but eventually tipped his head to the left.

 

Biggs gave him a look. “Really? Oatmeal raisin over chocolate chip? Bloody weirdo.”

 

Aranea crouched down, pausing with her hands midway to removing the gag in his mouth, smirking at the Lucian slightly. “You gonna behave now?”

 

His eyebrow raised, and he shook his head.

 

Aranea chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She finished removing the gag and dropped the granola bar in his lap. “Enjoy.”

 

The Lucian licked his lips, silently picking up the granola bar and ripping it with his teeth since his tied hands wouldn’t let him rip the packaging with them alone.

 

“I’ll take first watch if anyone wants a catnap,” Aranea offered as she tore open the package of her own granola bar.

 

“Certainly. Feel free to rouse me in an hour to relieve you,” the Lucian replied immediately.

 

Biggs laughed. “I’m tryin’ hard not to like this bloke.”

 

Tummelt heaved out an irritated sigh. “Was removing his gag necessary?”

 

* * *

 

 

An hour or so later might have found Aranea lost in thought, but she was too amused for that. Amused and in need of a camera, as Tummelt and Biggs had fallen asleep so they were leaning on each other.

 

There was a bit of shuffling to her right, and the Lucian stirred, opening his eyes. For the slightest moment, he actually looked his age as he blinked blearily and looked around. Then clarity set in and his eyes sharpened again, coming to rest on her.

 

“Sleep well?” Aranea asked sarcastically.

 

“Not particularly.”

 

“Well, you’re welcome to try and get some more sleep in before the others wake up.”

 

“For what purpose?” he asked darkly. “The Empire will likely use sleep deprivation on me if you succeed anyway. A half hour or so now is hardly going to matter.”

 

Ouch. Putting this directly on her, was he? “Can’t say I know. Never been around for an interrogation of theirs. Not generally my forte.”

 

His chuckle was completely devoid of actual humor. “Ah, of course not. You lot keep your hands _clean,_ do you? You’re happy to keep delivering the world into their hands so long as you get paid and you aren’t personally there to witness the damage.”

 

Well, damn. This guy didn’t pull punches, did he? Well, neither did she. She laughed back at him. “Oh, no, no, no, Lucian. You don’t get to pass judgment like that when you don’t know our lives. It may seem easy to you to look down on us from where you’re sitting, but not everybody was born into a cozy position behind your fancy crystal Wall.”

 

The first spark of actual anger that she’d seen from him flared in his eyes. “You believe I was handed my position rather than earning it?”

 

Ahh, so this particular Lucian had worked his ass off to get where he was. Interesting. “I _believe_ that this is the first life-or-death situation that you’ve ever been in. That’s not something me or my men could say, even when we were your age. We do what we do to survive, and sometimes, that’s all we’ve got going for us. We don’t get the luxury of only doing what we’re comfortable with.”

 

“Hmph.” He looked away from her. “And therein lies our true difference. I would never compromise my morals to save my own skin.”

 

Aranea snorted. “Right. Says the guy that’s never looked death in the eye before.”

 

With that, he sharply returned his gaze to her. “Are you honestly going to tell me what the Empire has in store for me isn’t worse than death?”

 

Dammit. He had her there. The future advisor of the kingdom… They’d put him through every method they had to get what was in his head.

 

He swallowed, resting his head back against the wall once more. “It matters not. They can do what they will, but they’ll get nothing from me.”

 

Aranea sighed softly. Yes, they would. The guy had a will of steel, but torture had broken far more experienced men.


	4. 6-8/49

“And there have been no other signs of them besides the garage?” Regis asked as he walked along the hallways of the Citadel, although he already knew the answer he’d receive.

 

“None thus far,” Clarus said grimly. “And due to the disabled cameras in the garage and the level of damage on the bodies found, we don’t have any leads on who took him either.”

 

“Oh, don’t we?” There was no doubt in the King’s mind who was behind this. “I find it difficult to believe that Ignis would deem it necessary to incinerate a group of muggers.”

 

Clarus conceded his words with a bow of his head. “The scene does lean highly towards speaking of Imperial involvement.”

 

Regis swore inwardly. Ignis was so bright for his age that he barely had any hesitation in letting the boy take on duties above that of what normally would be assigned to him. Regis was a fool for not considering that would put the boy in danger like this just because they were behind the Wall. “How many of the Glaive have been deployed?”

 

“All that were available, Majesty.”

 

That still wasn’t enough. Not for this needle-in-a-haystack search. “See that Cor spares every man and woman he can as well. All travel in and out of the city is to be halted until this is resolved, and I want every station broadcasting Ignis’ picture to the public.”

 

“Understood, my King,” Clarus said, sounding very much like he’d expected everything Regis had just ordered.

 

“Your Majesty!”

 

Regis halted his pace, waiting as the _elder_ Scientia caught up to them and stood at attention. “Sire, permission to join the search for my nephew.”

 

“Granted.” Regis barely let him finish his sentence. “Go.”

 

They _would_ be getting that boy back safe. No matter what.

* * *

 

 

“Stop. Here’s where we make our ascent,” Loqi said, looking at some graffiti beside a ladder that matched the graffiti they’d seen earlier.

 

“’Bout bloody time,” Biggs muttered. “Now that it’ll be daylight soon…”

 

“Your granola man has a point,” the Lucian noted. “You have half a city to cover, and soon it will be broad daylight. How do you intend to pull off a feat of escaping the city under those conditions?”

 

“That’s none of your concern,” Tummelt snarled.

 

Oh, Aranea was glad she hadn’t re-gagged that guy. Things were much more entertaining when he could speak. “It’s _my_ concern, Loqi. He’s right. How the hell are we going to cross the city dressed like this? We don’t exactly blend in, and it won’t be long until they have his face plastered on every billboard in the city.”

 

Loqi snippily gestured for Wedge to climb the ladder first. “I can assure you, Miss Highwind, I have a plan.”

 

“Yeah, I _know_ you have a plan. _I_ would like to know the plan.”

 

Loqi huffed. “You’ll see when we reach the surface.”

 

How reassuring.

 

Like before, Aranea was the last to reach the ladder, and she scaled it quickly, making it to the top just in time to hear Biggs’ protest.

 

“A shopping mall? You bloody mad? Do you know how many cameras are in a place like that?”

 

Aranea blinked, letting her eyes adjust to the slightly brighter lighting. Sure enough, there was an indoor mall within sight. “…Actually, this is smart.”

 

Biggs shot her a look.

 

Aranea took her place by the Lucian again, turning to Tummelt. “I’m assuming the cameras are taken care of?”

 

Tummelt nodded proudly. “The Lucians will find this to be one of many areas experiencing power outages. They won’t be able to check them all.”

 

“…And this is one of the last ones they’d check because it’s usually a more heavily populated area so they wouldn’t expect us to head here,” Aranea finished.

 

“Precisely.” Tummelt checked his phone. “We have slightly over an hour and a half before the stores’ employees start arriving. I trust you all can find appropriate disguises in that amount of time.”

 

“Don’t worry ’bout us.” Wedge was already walking, and Biggs wasn’t far behind him, a look of positive glee on his face.

 

Aranea shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips.

 

The Lucian tilted his head inquisitively at her.

 

“Their lives haven’t exactly been glamorous. Every gil counts.” Aranea saw no issue with giving him an explanation. Might even leave him something to think about other than his judgmental outlook on them. “Free rein in a mall isn’t something they’ve had before.”

 

The Lucian didn’t reply.

 

* * *

 

 

Sure enough, Biggs and Wedge were like kids in a candy store, running rampant through the mall and breaking into as many stores as they could so they could look at everything in their limited amount of time.

 

Tummelt stared after them like they’d lost their minds as he sifted through one rack of clothes. “Was there something particularly wrong with the first three stores?” For the first time, he didn’t seem condescending. He genuinely looked confused.

 

Of course. He probably hadn’t struggled with poverty either.

 

Aranea was about to say something, but then she noticed that the Lucian was… eyeing her up. And not at all subtly. “ _Hey._ ” She tightened her grip on his arm. “You looking for something?”

 

He looked at her in puzzlement, and then his eyes widened in realization. “ _Oh._ No, I… Forgive me! I did not intend– I was merely taking note of your attire so I could suggest–” He flushed beet red, turning his gaze to the floor. “…I believe you’d like the selection in that shop in particular.” He gestured with his tied hands to a store that was some ways down. “It’s of a higher quality and more suited to what I am assuming your tastes are.”

 

Aranea shared a look with Tummelt before bursting into laughter. By the Six, he actually was a teenager after all. Behind that stuffy, sharp-witted exterior, he was as awkward as everyone else his age. Maybe even more so, given that little display. “You know, sure, why not? Let’s give that one a try.”

 

Turned out the Lucian was right – this was definitely her kind of store. She wasn’t too picky on the quality of clothes so long as they didn’t fall apart, but this store had exactly the stuff she liked, and its quality was so good she would consider sleeping in it. Out of curiosity, she checked the price tag of the jacket she picked up.

 

She made a face. If she was actually shopping with money right now, she’d have dropped the jacket like it was on fire. “Who the hell charges this much for one jacket? You normally shop here?”

 

The Lucian chuckled. “No, I’m afraid this is far above my pay grade, though I am gifted with some attire of a higher quality for my work.”

 

Made sense. Though she was still confused as to why they had a nineteen-year-old in a position that required clothes like that anyway. _Future advisor to the King_ was what Tummelt said. Hell of a lot of pressure there. No wonder this guy was so level-headed if he had to live with that.

 

Well, anyway, price didn’t matter right now, so she laid the jacket over the other items in her arms.

 

“ _Oi, Lady A!_ ” Biggs called.

 

“ _Yeah, Biggs?”_ she yelled back, and the Lucian winced at the volume since she was so close to his ear.

 

“ _Found a bakery over ’ere that’s got some leftovers! You want somethin’?_ ”

  

“You guys want anything?” Aranea lowered her voice to normal level.

 

“We should all eat while we can.” Tummelt didn’t look up from the shelf he was pawing through. “We’ll not have another chance like this.”

 

“Surprisingly, I’m inclined to agree with him,” the Lucian said, displeasure lacing his voice.

 

“ _Yeah, sounds good,_ ” she yelled again. “ _Bring enough back for all of us!_ ”

 

“ _You got it!_ ”

 

And that was how they found themselves sitting in a circle eating pastries on the floor of the most expensive clothing chain in Insomnia.

 

“Does everyone have what they need?” Tummelt asked, checking his phone between bites. “We should depart after we’ve all changed.”

 

“Don’t we need to find a disguise for him?” Wedge asked, looking at the Lucian. “Or at least some clothes that don’t smell like the sewers?”

 

“Here,” Biggs said with a grin. “I’ve got a disguise for ’im.” Biggs took his hat off, flipping it and plopping it on the Lucian’s head instead of his own.”

 

The Lucian shot him an unimpressed look, and Wedge and Aranea snickered.

 

“Oh, come on, Mr. Lucian, don’t be such a downer!” Biggs nudged him with his elbow.

 

“ _Ignis,_ ” the Lucian snapped, his gaze cold as he ripped the hat off and dropped it. “My name is Ignis Scientia. I’m not a nameless pawn that’s here to amuse you until you throw me to the wolves in exchange for your next paycheck.”

 

Biggs’ face dropped instantly.

 

Damn it all. Biggs was having a hard enough time with this, the Lucia– _Scientia_ just didn’t know him well enough to see past that false cheer. …Or he did see past it and was trying to pressure Biggs because he thought he would be the easiest to crack?

 

“Okay.” Aranea stood, grabbing Scientia’s arm to get him to his feet. “Let’s get you some clean clothes–”

 

He yanked his arm free. “I can stand on my own.”

 

Aranea sighed. It wasn’t like she could actually blame him for being snippy.

 

* * *

 

 

The Imperial – _Loqi_ – checked his phone again. “I’m going to obtain a charger for this phone.” He pocketed the device in his stolen maroon and black coat. “When I return, we leave. Fifteen minutes, at most. Miss Highwind, I recommend you get changed.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Highwind dismissed him. “I’ll be ready.”

 

She was the only one of them still in armored garb, but Ignis knew that was just due to her constantly watching him while the others got everything they needed.

 

Loqi walked off, examining the phone’s charger port as he headed for the electronics store.

 

“Here, Lady A. Why don’t you let me watch him while you get changed?” the one named Biggs said, having just finished transferring the contents of his coat pockets over to his new dark jeans and shorter, _expensive_ white jacket. For Insomnia during the winter, he looked entirely natural, as did Loqi and Wedge. Ignis himself was dressed in a near exact copy of what he’d had on earlier, the only real change being the addition of a long overcoat with deep purple lining. A Glaive would never suspect them like this.

 

Ignis flexed his gloved hands, testing the freshly tied ropes that bound them together. Well, at least he’d be warm while being walked to his death. If it came to that.

 

“Thanks, Biggs.” Highwind nudged Ignis towards her comrade and gathered the clothes she picked out before heading for the restroom, which was in the corner of the mall on that level.

 

“Oi, Wedge, why don’t you grab us some of them cookies from that shop we passed? We could use some for the road.”

 

Ignis frowned. Why did it seem like Biggs was trying to get rid of the others?

 

“Yeah, sure,” Wedge grunted, also walking off.

 

Ignis flexed his hands again. All three of the others gone. This might be the chance he was waiting for.

 

The characteristic sound a can being opened brought Ignis’ attention back to the remaining Imperial, and he suddenly found an Ebony being offered to him.

 

“Here.”

 

Ignis blinked, giving the man a surprised look. Firstly, why? Secondly, how had he even known Ignis’ preferred drink?

 

Biggs chuckled. “Saw you eyeing those when we passed a display earlier.”

 

Ah. Why so he had. Ignis accepted the can. No matter the reason, the last thing he needed was a caffeine headache on topic of everything else. And… oh, this could have other uses…

 

“Listen, kid–”

 

“Not a child.” Ignis took a large gulp of Ebony. Ah, yes, this was better already.

 

“…Right. Listen, mate–”

 

“Not your mate either.”

 

Biggs sighed. “…All right, _Ignis,_ then?”

 

Ignis took another sip, raising his eyebrows as he waited for the man to continue.

 

“Look, I don’t want you to think that any of us except that pompous asshole are ’appy about this assignment. We’re just tryin’ to make the best we can out of a rubbish situation.”

 

Ignis let his eyes flicker past the Imperial. Highwind was just turning the corner. It wouldn’t take her long to change and return. He had to be quick.

 

Ignis met the other man’s gaze. “Biggs, is it not? Mr. Biggs, if you’re looking to me to ease your conscience, I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you.”

 

“Yeah… that’s fair.” Biggs scratched the back of his neck. He was about to speak again when Ignis fumbled his Ebony with his tied hands, the can dropping from his grip to land on the ground and start spilling.

 

Ignis swore, stepping out of range of the splash. He closed his hands partially, readying them.

 

Biggs knelt down instantly. “Oh, ’ere. I’ll get it.”

 

_Now._

 

As soon as Biggs dropped his gaze, Ignis summoned one of his daggers, slicing through the bindings that were locking his wrists together with little effort. The moment his hands were free, he replaced the dagger with his lance, swinging the end of it around just as Biggs looked up.

 

The Imperial fell backwards as the lance’s dull end struck the side of his head, and he was unconscious before he hit the ground.

 

Ignis held his breath, listening for signs of the others.

 

Nothing. They hadn’t heard. He could escape right now.

 

Except he couldn’t leave just yet. There was something he needed to know first.

 

Ignis shook the remains of the ropes from his hands.

 

One down. Three to go.


	5. 8/49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO HOW BOUT THAT IGNIS TRAILER GUYS? THOUGHTS AFTER THE CHAPTER!

 Wedge would be the easiest target, that much Ignis was certain of. He wasn’t certain who was next on the list after that, though. Highwind struck him as the most skilled by far, given the confidence she carried and that she had multiple men who clearly respected her working for her, but Loqi was more ruthless and dedicated to this mission. In fact, given the qualms Highwind and her men had shown, Ignis wondered if she would even fight him if he managed to take down Loqi. He wasn’t going to count in her releasing him, but he acknowledged that there was at least a chance.

 

Loqi was Ignis’ best chance at success. But first… Wedge needed to be dealt with.

 

Ignis stalked the dark-coated man from the level above, taking measured breaths as he kept his footsteps as quiet as possible. This was going to require a lot of precision. It would have been easier if Ignis had been aiming to kill. A higher chance of success, even. Just a simple dagger to the throat. His aim was by far good enough for that. But… no.

 

Ignis shook his head, almost ashamed of himself. He’d trained all his life for this type of situation, but these particular circumstances were… not what he’d expected to face. These mercenaries might be working for the Empire, but they didn’t want a part in his kidnapping. Noct wasn’t in danger for Ignis to protect either. It was just him, and he couldn’t justify making Wedge his first kill, even without factoring in how his death would enrage Highwind. That would be a death that would plague his conscience relentlessly.

 

Loqi, though… Ignis couldn’t make the same defense for him. If it came to it – if Loqi ended up being his first kill… Well, Ignis wasn’t naive. He knew there would still be sleepless nights for him, but not nearly as many. Loqi was an enemy of Insomnia. An enemy of Lucis. That, at least, he could tell himself–

 

He stopped, sucking in a breath as a chill ran through him. He’d already made his first kill. The Imperials in the garage… he knew he’d killed them with that blast of magic, but it hadn’t really sunk in until now. They were helmeted. Not MTs, but faceless opponents. He hadn’t even seen the bodies. It was difficult to compare that to the mental image of how Wedge would bleed out on the floor while trying in vain to stem the blood flow that was gushing from his neck.

 

Ignis continued to hold his breath as Wedge stepped away from the shop. Carefully, he continued tailing the man until he passed the steps connecting the levels.

 

No. He would not kill Wedge. Killing someone with knives was far more personal than what had happened before, and Wedge wasn’t truly his enemy.

 

Silently, Ignis descended the stairs to a certain point and then hopped over the railing, landing in a crouch behind the mercenary. It was then he surged forwards, kicking in Wedge’s knee from behind and clapping a hand over his mouth before looping an arm around the other man’s neck.

 

The Imperial began struggling instantly, but Ignis threw himself back, using his weight to drag them both to the ground before wrapping his leg around the thrashing Imperial’s to keep him from wriggling out of the hold.

 

_Stop moving,_ Ignis willed. His arms were shaky but locked, and he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t break the man’s neck if he didn’t stop thrashing around. Soon enough, though, Wedge quieted, going limp.

 

Ignis released him, making certain Wedge was still breathing before he stood.

 

Two down.

 

Loqi was next.

 

To the electronics store, then.

 

Wait… no… _Footsteps._

 

Ignis’ eyes shot around the area, and he darted behind the nearest kiosk. He wouldn’t have much time before Loqi saw Wedge’s crumpled form.

 

Sure enough, Loqi swore, and the footsteps picked up until Ignis could see him standing beside the mercenary’s unconscious form.

 

And there was what Ignis needed, too.

 

He lunged, using the kiosk as a vaulting point to attack from above. Loqi heard him coming, turning and pulling up his arms in defense at the last second, causing Ignis’ dagger to only nick his wrist as he twisted and sent Ignis rolling across the floor.

 

Ignis used his momentum to get his feet beneath him, his coat fanning out behind him as the soles of his shoes slid across the polished floor, leaving him facing his opponent in a crouch.

 

Loqi’s eyes were wide with surprise and fury as he stared Ignis down, but Ignis was already eyeing his true target. In his instinctive, blind block, Loqi had dropped his real weapon.

 

The phone was on the floor just past him.

 

Ignis darted forwards again, acting like he was going to attack once more. As he predicted, Loqi readied his stance to defend himself, leaving the areas to either of his sides wide open. Ignis dropped, letting the floor’s lack of friction carry him past the Imperial right to where he needed to be. The phone was in his hand by the time he returned to his feet once more.

 

Given the expression on Loqi’s face, he realized his error.

 

Too late.

 

Ignis flashed him a faint smirk, tossing the phone to his right hand for a better grip. “Much obliged.”

 

He turned and ran, his unfamiliar shoes carrying him up the stationary escalator. He had everything he needed. All that was left was escaping, a goal that was within sight–

 

He skidded to a stop at the top of the escalator, adrenaline spiking as he spotted Highwind checking Biggs’ pulse.

 

_Blast._

 

She’d already spotted him, but he couldn’t go back down the escalator, and there was no way past her without a direct face-off. He darted to his left, heading back into the mall, but on the top level instead of back down where Loqi was.

 

As rapidly as his heart was beating, he could have sworn it missed at least four beats as the unmistakable sound of a gunshot split the air. Ignis’ footfalls faltered for a moment as the glass part of the railing shattered, splinters flying near him.

 

Loqi was shooting at him. He was bloody shooting at him. Wasn’t the whole point of this to bring him back alive? Ah. Wait. Yes. He understood. Loqi would rather fail the mission in that regard than let Ignis slip away with the information that was on the phone. The Imperial couldn’t let him return to the King with information on who Niflheim’s source within the Kingsglaive was.

 

Ignis pushed the thoughts from his mind as the storefront he was passing shattered with another bullet. It didn’t matter why Loqi was shooting at him, just that he was. It would only take one hit. Ignis needed to focus. His breaths were already labored, and he wouldn’t last very long in an all-out sprint. Then again, neither would his pursuers in all likeliness, but Ignis was willing to wager that Highwind had better stamina than he and Loqi did. At the moment, he wasn’t sure which of them to be more worried about.

 

Yet another shot rang out, and Ignis swiftly turned the corner he’d reached, realizing only after the fact that the turn led to one of the larger department stores that had no exit.

 

_Damn._

 

He ran straight into the railing in front of him, looking down. The stairs in this area were back on the main stretch. The elevator nearby wasn’t fast enough, but he might be able to– 

 

Ignis jumped, spinning around as a blast of red something – it looked like magic, but it _couldn’t_ be that – completely took out a chunk of the railing beside him.

 

“You gave Biggs a concussion,” Highwind said flatly, whipping a lance around into a ready position.

 

Where on Eos has she gotten that? There was absolutely no way he’d missed her carrying that around until now – it was _not_ a subtle weapon.

 

“He’ll live.” Ignis stepped to the side, placing himself right where the gap in the railing now was. “Which is more than can be said for me if I go with you lot.”

 

Oh, she had no idea that she’d just improved his chances. There was no exit in the store on _this_ level, but there was one in the store below it. He sent a mental thanks to Prompto and Noct for all the times they’d dragged him here. He’d never bemoan another trip like that again.

 

“It’s more than can be said for you if you try to run again!” Loqi spat, rounding the corner with his gun in hand.

 

“Where’s Wedge? And how the hell did _he_ get loose, anyway?” Highwind jabbed in his direction with her lance.

 

“Your man is fine.” Loqi sounded utterly dismissive. “And it would appear that our young Lucian here is capable of summoning weapons via the Crystal. Cut himself free with a dagger.”

 

Highwind’s eyebrows shot up. “No kidding? You kept that little fact hidden until now?” She bobbed her head thoughtfully. “Okay… I’ll admit it – you’re clever.”

 

He sent her a half-smirk. “Well, I have been told I’m rather con _niving_ at times.”

 

Highwind groaned. Loudly. “Okay, I’m gagging you again just for that pun.”

 

“We can worry about that once he’s restrained again.” Loqi glared at Ignis, his grip tight on his gun. “I’ll be taking that phone back.”

 

Ignis gritted his teeth. “Not. A. Chance.”

 

“You don’t have another option!” Loqi hissed.

 

“Oh, but I do.” Ignis relished the look on the other man’s face when he leaned back and let himself fall from the second level.

 

It was nerve-racking as hell, but Ignis knew he’d be safe. Prompto had wailed about wanting to try the oversized trampolines in this area enough times that Ignis knew exactly where they were. By his second bounce, Ignis was low enough to roll onto his feet and stumble to the edge of the area. He sliced the net in his way with his daggers, shoving off the trampoline to land shakily on the floor once more.

 

He summoned his lance, hurling it through the glass doors separating him from the outside. He didn’t go through, though. If they gained on him again, he would only be shot by Loqi. Let them think what they would of the broken doors to the outside.

 

“ _Look, do you want to catch him or not? Jump!_ ”

 

Ignis could just hear Highwind’s voice over the crunch of the broken glass under his boots as he ran past the door. He’d stalled them. Not by much, but maybe enough. The line of sight was broken. All he needed was a moment.

 

He kept running further into the store. Running to what he hoped would be the last place they’d look for him.

 

He dared a glimpse over his shoulder as he slipped through the door to the women’s restroom.

 

This was _not_ how he’d expected his day to go, he mused as he summoned his lance once more and stuck it through the handle on the door, hopefully barring anyone from entry if they tried.

 

…Not that being stuck in the ladies’ lavatory was an ideal alternative, but it was preferable to being kidnapped.

 

Ignis’ back hit the wall of the stall behind him, and he near collapsed into it, letting it take the brunt of his weight as he ran a hand through his hair and just tried to _breathe_. With shaky fingers, he removed his glasses, staggering over to the sink and setting the phone down, fumbling with the knob before tearing his gloves off so he could splash his eyes with water. He pressed his palms into his closed lids.

 

_Breathe in._

_Breathe out._

_Breathe in._

_Breathe out._

_Breath in…_

 

He dropped his hands, grabbed a nearby paper towel to wipe his face, and calmly replaced his gloves.

 

_Breath out…_

 

Control. Focus. Instinct. Training. These were his allies now.

 

He slid his glasses back on, ignoring the crack in the left lens. His right hand found the phone, and he quickly typed in the code that he’d observed Loqi entering before.

 

It was all too easy to find the number Loqi had been texting. It was the _only_ number on the phone. Quickly, Ignis raked his eyes over the digits, muttering them aloud until he had them memorized. That might be all he had to go on if this didn’t work.

 

Ignis took one more calming breath and hit the Call option.

 

One ring.

 

Two rings.

 

_Click._

 

“ _Have you lost your mind, breaking protocol like this? You’re fortunate I’m alone._ ”

 

Ignis’ grip on the phone tightened. He’d been hoping it was someone’s voice that he’d recognize. He hadn’t expected it to be a voice he recognized so well.

 

“Titus Drautos.” Ignis’ voice came out low and more stable than he felt. “I will see you executed for this treason.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just have to say one thing in particular about the trailer (since I don’t wanna spoil if anyone hasn’t seen it yet)…  
> …  
> …  
> …  
> …I CALLED IT I CALLED IT I CALLED IT I CALLED IT I CALLED IT I CALLED IT I CALLED IT AND I’M SO HYPED. THIS IS EVERYTHING I WAS HOPING FOR!!!
> 
> THANK YOU SQUARE. YOU GAVE ME AN AWESOME TRAILER AND COMRADES JUST IN TIME FOR MY BIRTHDAY. <3 <3 <3


	6. 9/49

There was a measurable silence on the other end of the line.

 

“ _…Scientia. You’re more resourceful than I realized._ ”

 

“And you’re more of an arsehole than I realized,” Ignis shot back, then bit his lip. Really? Had he just devolved to name calling that easily? Not that the man didn’t deserve it, being a traitor to the _hearth and home_ he’d sworn to protect. “Did you honestly believe I’d walk into the Empire’s hands without a fight?”

 

“ _To be honest, I believed an Imperial agent and three highly qualified mercenaries capable of handling one child._ ”

 

Ignis scoffed at the mild irritation in the Captain’s voice. “So, you consider me a child? I do hope you realize that only adds to the despicableness of your character, as it means you’re willing to torture and kill children.”

 

Drautos chuckled. “ _You’ve always been a head over everyone else your age, Scientia. The King just couldn’t resist giving his brightest new Crownsguard the responsibility you craved so much. You knew the dangers of your job when you took your oath._ ”

 

“You took an oath as well, _Captain_. Or did it mean so little to you that you’d forgotten?”

 

“ _I’ve never forgotten my loyalties. They just aren’t to the same cause as yours._ ”

 

Ignis had another retort on the tip of his tongue, but the phone beeped in his ear, letting him know that the call had been ended. Ignis clicked his tongue, retiring the phone to the general dialing screen. That traitor wouldn’t be able to run fast enough. 

 

Ignis tapped in Gladio’s number, drumming the fingers of his left hand as he waited for him to pick up.

 

He only had to wait midway through the second ring.

 

“ _Amicitia here._ ”

 

Well, that was awfully formal for Gladio. Then again, Ignis’ kidnapping would have put the Citadel on high alert, and Gladio probably had been taking and making calls all night.

 

Still, even with the unnaturally formal tone, it was good to hear his friend’s voice. “It’s me, Gladio.” 

 

“ _Ignis? Oh, thank the Six! Where the hell are you?_ ”

 

“You recall the mall Prompto and Noct frequent?”

 

“ _Yeah._ ”

 

“I’m there now.”

 

“ _Hold on._ ” Gladio rattled off the address of the mall to someone in the background. “ _Okay, they’re rerouting the Glaives there. What are they gonna be up against?_ ”

 

“Four hostiles total. Three mercenaries and one Imperial by the name of Loqi. I managed to incapacitate two of the mercenaries when I made my escape, but I cannot guarantee that they’ll be unconscious for much longer.”

 

Biggs would likely be out a while due to how hard Ignis had hit him, but he wasn’t sure about Wedge. His arms had been shaky and uncooperative because he’d been thinking about–

 

About the men in the garage. That he had killed.

 

Ignis closed his eyes.

 

_Breathe._

 

It had to be done. They’d have brought an end to Lucis if they could have. They were–

 

“ _Got it._ ”

 

Gladio’s voice brought him back to the present.

 

_Focus._

 

Good. The Glaive knew more of what they were up against, but Loqi and Aranea weren’t their true concern. Drautos was. Their own leader.

 

“Gladio, listen to me very carefully. I need you to take what I say next directly to the King. No one else, understand?” It was very possible that Drautos wasn’t the only agent the Empire had within Lucis’ ranks.

 

“…Yeah, I got you. What is it–”

 

_Boop. Boop. Boop._

 

Ignis jerked the phone from his ear, swearing. Of all the bloody time to have a dropped call…

 

He redialed. It didn’t even ring.

 

“ _The mobile services for this device have been temporarily discontinued. If you have missed a payment, please see your–_ ”

 

Ignis swore again, louder. That was no dropped call – Drautos had someone shut off the phone’s ability to make calls at all. He’d probably had that ready to go as a precaution before Loqi had even gotten a hand on it.

 

Ignis threw the phone in the sink, turning on the water. If it was no use to him, he couldn’t chance Loqi being able to reconnect it somehow.

 

He had to get out of here. He couldn’t wait for the Glaive. Not when he didn’t know if Drautos had others working for him. He needed to get to the Citadel himself.

 

Dismissing his lance from where it was still barring the way, Ignis shoved out the restroom’s door, making his way back to the exit of the mall. Loqi and Highwind were likely still searching for him, but hopefully they wouldn’t still be looking in this area.

 

“Oi!”

 

Dammit.

 

Ignis bolted out the door as soon as Biggs’ voice reached his ears.

 

_How?_ A blow that hard should have kept him unconscious for hours. Unless… unless Highwind had thrown a potion on him, which she very well might have.

 

Ignis threw all his energy into running as he tore across the pavement outside. Him against one man. He was fairly confident he could take Biggs on in a direct fight, but fighting meant more time in the area – more of a chance of Highwind and Loqi hearing the commotion and finding him once more. He couldn’t chance that. He had to keep moving.

 

But could he outrun Biggs? He didn’t know the man’s usual level of exercise. But he had to try–

 

Ignis fell into a roll, elbow bashing harshly into the road as he narrowly avoided the squealing blur of silver that had nearly slammed into him. Ignis blinked, mind reeling. His elbow ached from the force of the impact with the asphalt.

 

A car. He’d nearly been hit by a car. Astrals, his failure to pay attention could have been the end of him right then.

 

Ignis clutched his elbow as he rose on wobbly legs. He heard a car door open.

 

“Six, son, are you okay?”

 

A man – late twenties by the look of him – had gotten out of the passenger’s side and was running towards him. A woman – presumably his wife – remained in the driver’s seat, but lowered her widow. “Is he hurt?”

 

There was also a young child in the back seat.

 

“I’m fine,” Ignis dismissed. How far behind him was Biggs?

 

“You arm looks hurt – here, let me take a look. We should get you to a hospital.” The man reached out, but Ignis pulled away.

 

Ignis looked him directly in the eye. “Sir, I need you to listen to me. I am a member of Prince Noctis’ Crownsguard. I have at least three hostiles with Imperial connections pursuing me at the moment, and I _need_ to reach the Citadel. Can you aid me?”

 

For a second, the man stared at him uncomprehendingly, then, “…Yeah. Get… get in the car, we’ll take you.”

 

Ignis heaved out a sigh. “Thank you.”

 

The man put an arm on his shoulder, guiding him around to the backseat door on the passenger side. “Well, I wouldn’t be much of a loyal Lucian citizen if I turned you down.” He opened the sliding door for Ignis. “Hun?”

 

The woman nodded. “Citadel. Got it.”

 

The man stepped out of Ignis’ way, leaving him room to get in the car. He gave Ignis a grin. “Always have been a fan of King Regis.”

 

Ignis gave a weak chuckle, returning the smile. “After this, I’ll do my best to get you a personal meet and greet.”

 

And then red splashed across the lens of his glasses, the fresh scent of blood wafting into his nostrils. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ignis registered that there had been a gunshot, but all he could hear now was the screaming of the man’s wife and child as the body hit the ground.

 

Ignis blinked, shock stilling him. Thick, warm blood slid down his face, the characteristic iron tang in his mouth as well.

 

“What the hell did you _do?_ ”

 

Highwind’s fierce tone had Ignis snapping his gaze to the source of the shot.

 

Loqi. He’d just…

 

“You bloody maniac!” Ignis sank to his knees, frantically searching the man to see where he’d been hit. Too late. It was too late. The shot had been instantly fatal. “He was a _civilian!_ ”

 

Loqi marched forwards, gun still raised and pointed at the woman now. Ignis stepped between them.

 

No. He’d die before he let this monster murder that woman and her child.

 

Loqi turned his gun on Ignis, but glared at the woman. “Unless you want your child to become an orphan today, _drive._ Now!”

 

The woman jumped, hands shaking so badly that she was barely able to do as he said. Ignis glared at Loqi with all the rage within him as the car sped off.

 

Had he not been so furious, Ignis likely would have thrown up. Two minutes ago, that family had been living a normal day, and now that woman had just been forced to leave her husband and the father of her child behind before the body was even cold.

 

With Loqi’s gun levelled at his head, there was nothing Ignis could do, but oh how he wanted to tear the man apart with his daggers _slice by slice_ at the moment. The red tint to his vision wasn’t just due to the coloring on his glasses.

 

“You want to pin the blame on me for this?” Loqi stalked even closer, grabbing the back of Ignis’ jacket’s collar and yanking hard. He kicked the back of Ignis’ leg for good measure, forcing him down to his knees. The hand on his collar forced him even further down, making him hover barely a couple inches above the man’s body. “This? This is _your_ doing, Scientia. _You_ involved him! Take care to remember that when you next feel the urge to escape so you can protect your dear Lucis! _You_ caused this!”

 

“Loqi, that is _enough!_ ” Highwind’s tone was so harsh that Ignis felt Loqi actually flinch. “You don’t get to blame him so you can justify the war crime you just committed!”

 

“Choose your words with care, Highwind!” Loqi hissed.

 

“Or _what?_ You don’t have a phone anymore to rat me out to your man in the Glaive!”

 

“Well then, I’m fortunate that I thought to inform him ahead of time that you might try to sabotage the mission.” Loqi’s tone was low and threatening. “Should our objective fail to be reached, you’ll find yourself and your men dead – whether it be by the Lucis Glaive or an Imperial firing squad!”

 

Highwind’s tone matched his. “You’re dancing around a very dangerous line here, Loqi.”

 

“I’ll take my chances.”

 

Ignis’ arms were yanked behind him as he was dragged back to his feet.

 

“Get up! I have no doubt the Glaive will be here any moment. We collect your man and we move.”

 

All Ignis caught of Highwind’s face was a fleeting glance, but it was enough. She was furious. Absolutely ready to slit Loqi’s throat herself if she could. 

 

And Biggs… Biggs was standing in the background, his expression the very definition of horror.

 

Trapped. They were all trapped. All under Loqi’s thumb. All under _Drautos’_ thumb.

 

Ignis cast a lingering look at the body on the ground. He would not see this injustice go unpunished. Loqi and Drautos would pay. This was _their_ fault, not his.

 

But even knowing that, he couldn’t shake the guilt clogging his throat. Even though he didn’t fire the shot, Ignis should have known better than to involve that family. It was his job to protect Lucians.

 

But no, he couldn’t dwell on this. Dwelling would help nothing and no one. He needed to focus on what lay ahead.

 

Blood dripped from his face as he was hauled away, and he scrunched his eyes shut.

 

_Breathe in._

_Breathe out._

 

He needed to focus…

 

_Breathe in._

_Breathe out._

 

He needed…

 

_Breathe in._

_Breathe out._

 

He…

 

_Breathe in._

_Breathe out._

 

Astrals, what had he _done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *munches popcorn while waiting for reactions*


	7. 9-12/49

“This is crossing a line,” Crowe spat, crouched by the body that they’d found in the middle of the road as she checked his wallet.

 

“Damn right it is,” Nyx agreed, unclenching his fists so he could tap his comm. “Ulric reporting. No sign of Scientia himself so far, but it looks like we’ve got a civilian casualty.”

 

“ _A what?_ ” Libertus demanded.

 

“ _You sure, Nyx?_ ” Pelna asked.

 

The chattering silenced in an instant as Drautos’ voice cut in. “ _Repeat, Ulric?_ ”

 

“A civilian casualty, Captain. Gunshot wound. Instantly fatal by the looks of it.”

 

There was a pause long enough for Nyx to almost wonder if the Captain had heard him, and then a new, yet very familiar voice reached his ears.

 

“ _Ulric, is there any chance that the body you’ve found is one of the mercenaries in Lucian attire?_ ”

 

“Afraid not, Your Majesty.” Crowe stood, moving over to Nyx to show him what she was looking at. “Victim’s got a Lucian license and a several-year-old picture of him and his wife and kid in front of the Rogue Queen’s statue.”

 

Nyx sighed sadly at the well-worn photo before turning his attention to the license. “His name was Andres Forte, though that’s about all we can tell you about him. Doesn’t have a business card or anything.”

 

“ _Let us worry about who he was – you two just get back to your mission,_ ” Drautos instructed. “ _Find Scientia._ ”

 

“On it, sir.” 

 

* * *

 

Gladio forced his knee to still so he wouldn’t spill the coffee cup he’d just refilled for about the seventh time. Somehow he felt exhausted and hyper at the same time.

 

…Was this what it felt like to be Ignis?

 

Never mind. He just needed to wait patiently for his dad and the King to be done talking. And he needed to _stop fidgeting_.

 

Wait… was this what it was like to be Prompto?

 

“I want that mall entirely closed down until every inch of it has been scoured. And I want whatever information can be found on this _Loqi,_ ” King Regis ordered to some Crownsguard Gladio didn’t recognize.

 

“Understood, Sire.” The man scampered off, leaving the King and his Shield alone in the hallway. 

 

Gladio set his coffee down, lunging out of his seat. “Your Majesty?”

 

The King looked exhausted when he turned to face him. “Yes, Gladiolus?”

 

Gladio squared his shoulders, trying to ignore the way he could practically feel the coffee buzzing in his veins. “Concerning Noct – was there anything you needed me to do?” He almost regretted asking the question with how the King looked like another hundred pounds had been added to his shoulders. Gladio empathized. Telling Noct about this was not going to be easy.

 

The King sighed. “What’s the time?”

 

“Quarter past seven,” Gladio’s father replied.

 

The King nodded. “Noctis likely won’t awaken for another few hours.”

 

Gladio couldn’t resist a slight snort. “Without Ignis to wake him up? It’ll be well past ten.”

 

The King nodded again. “I’ll send someone to his apartment around that time to bring him here, though I do hope we’re able to resolve this entire matter by then.”

 

* * *

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

Noctis groaned, rolling away from the sound and snuggling further into his pillows. Ignis hadn’t come to wake him up yet, so there was no reason he needed to be out of bed this early.

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

Who the hell was texting him this early, anyway? If Specs hadn’t gotten him up, it couldn’t be past seven.

 

Noctis groaned louder, blindly feeling around for one of his spare pillows and then clapping it over his ear. It muffled the sounds until they stopped finally, and he dozed off again.

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp–_

_Buzzz, chirp chirp–_

_Buzzz, chir-_

_Buzzz–_

_Buz–_

_Buzzz–_

_Buz–_

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

Noctis threw the pillow off.

 

What. The. Hell.

 

He rolled and dragged himself to the edge of the bed so he could reach his phone. He was tempted to hurl it into the wall, but he really didn’t want the lecture from Ignis, so he unplugged it instead and squinted blearily at the notifications.

 

 **Prompto:** <Chocobo Emoji>

 

 **Prompto:** Dude where r u?

 

 **Prompto:** Did u die?  <Crossbones Emoji>

 

 **Prompto:** Plz don’t leave me alone in this awful place!  <Screaming Emoji>

 

 **Prompto:** Srsly bro. U sick?

 

 **Prompto:** Noct

 

 **Prompto:** Noct

 

 **Prompto:** Noct

 

 **Prompto:** NOCT

 

 **Prompto:** ANSWER MEH

 

 **Prompto:** <Chocobo Emoji>

 

 **Prompto:** <Chocobo Emoji>

 

 **Prompto:** <Chocobo Emoji>

 

 **Prompto:** <Chocobo Emoji>

 

 **Prompto:** <Chocobo Emoji>

 

 **Prompto:** <Chocobo Emoji>

 

 **Prompto:** <Chocobo Emoji>

 

Noctis sighed. Really? Yeah, Prompto was an early bird, but he didn’t usually text Noctis until he knew he’d be up, which was–

 

Noctis’ eyes bulged as they locked onto the phone’s tiny clock numbers.

 

_8:53?_

 

Noctis swore, tossing his phone on the bed as he struggled to untangle himself from the sheets. Managing to get one foot free, he hopped towards the bathroom, dragging the sheet halfway across the room before it released his other leg.

 

 _Seriously?_ What was Ignis playing at? What had Noct done this time? He’d actually been keeping up with his studies and keeping the apartment fairly clean for weeks now. It couldn’t be about the dance lessons, could it? Yeah, Noct had stopped on his Advisor’s foot a few times, but did that really warrant a punishment on this scale? Those were accidental, and Ignis knew it.

 

Noctis continued racking his brain for what he could have possibly done to piss Ignis off badly enough for him to completely ditch him like this. He still had nothing come to mind by the time he was done with the World’s Fastest Shower.

 

Was this a test, maybe? Was Ignis trying to see what he’d do if he woke up to an emergency like this? Well, if it was, Ignis would probably lecture him about looking like a slob more than being a few minutes later when he was already late, so Noct spared a second to gel his hair. Though… it looked way closer to the ‘wet dog’ and ‘drowned rat’ categories than normal. Whatever. He so did not have time to worry about it. Ignis was probably waiting downstairs in the car ready to inspect how he handled the morning alone. Oh, yeah… Noctis was already bracing himself for the lecture that would undoubtedly last all the way to school. Great.

 

Trying to avoid a lecture about nutrition as well, Noct grabbed a protein bar on his way out, stuffing it in his bag and barely even getting his shirt and jacket on by the time he was out the door.

 

Ignis… was not waiting in the car. There was no car.

 

“Oh, come on, Specs!” Noctis yelled to the thin air. He was going to make him walk to school? Yeah, because _that_ fell in with all the safety lectures. Noctis heaved a sigh. There were probably like a dozen Glaives shadowing him, plus Gladio.

 

Well, if that was the case, they were going to have to keep up, because he was already late enough. Magic buzzed through his veins, waking him up a lot more as he started warping through the cold morning air. Geez, it was freezing out here. Was he going to get a ‘wear a scarf’ lecture after this too?

 

It didn’t take him long before he had to ease off on the warping and run for a while, leaving him wheezing fairly quickly. How did Prompto _do_ this in the winter?

 

“Nothing… I did… can possibly… deserve this!” Noctis huffed out. He honestly felt like throwing up by the time the school was in sight. His head was swimming from the warping, his lungs were rebelling against the cold, and his stomach was twisted from both of those plus the lack of anything in it.

 

Oh, he bet Gladio was behind this somehow too. Probably wanted to get him some training or something.

 

Noct was going to kill both of them.

 

The last stretch was agony, but he managed to tear through the hallways and find the right classroom just as the door was closing.

 

Oh, hell no. He didn’t go through all this suffering to be late for this class along with missing what he had so far.

 

Before he even realized what he was doing, he was inside the classroom, sliding into his usual seat with a blue trail in his wake.

 

The teacher straight up jumped. “Your Highness! Are… you well?”

 

Noct slouched over his desk, panting. It took him a moment, but he threw the teacher a thumbs-up a couple seconds later.

 

Laughter rippled through the class, and Noctis sank deeper into his desk, face burning.

 

“Good to see you’re alive, buddy,” Prompto tossed at him.

 

“Shut up,” Noctis grumbled.

 

* * *

 

Noctis sighed in relief as he left the classroom. When his dad brought up him missing his first class today, Noctis was so not taking the blame for it. At least he’d made it to the second.

 

Prompto snickered at him, smacking him on the back as he joined him in the hallway. “You okay there, buddy?”

 

“M’fine,” Noctis groused, pulling out his phone to shoot Ignis a text. “Thanks for the wakeup text. Apparently Ignis is pissed with me. Didn’t even show up this morning.”

 

“What, seriously? He totally ditched you?” Prompto looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh, but he was at least _attempting_ to be sympathetic. “What did you _do?_ ”

 

“I don’t even know! Last night it was the usual ‘goodnight, Highness’ yadda yadda, and then this morning he wasn’t there.” Noctis frowned at his phone screen. “And now my texts won’t even go through! Did he _block me?_ ” 

 

“…Wooooow, dude. Hey, maybe it’s because you don’t know what you did wrong that he’s making you think about it reaaaaally hard about it?”

 

Noctis snorted. “Sounds like something he would do. I’m gonna ask Gladio if he knows what’s up.”

 

* * *

 

“Pretty sure those maps don’t have the answers to the universe in them, Amicitia.”

 

Gladio flinched out of his trance, looking up from the maps of the city he’d been scouring to find a Glaive standing nearby with a plate of food in hand. Gladio was almost positive he was the same Glaive that had reported the civilian’s death earlier. It sounded like the same voice. Nyx? Yeah, Nyx Ulric. He’d heard that name more than a few times around the Citadel.

 

Gladio frowned. “Shouldn’t you be in the field?”

 

Ulric gestured to the plate with the fork he had in his hand. “Most of us are already running on lack of sleep – add lack of food to that and you’re asking for someone to pass out in the field. I’m heading back out as soon as I’m done here.”

 

“Right.” Made sense. As much as it would be nice for all the Glaives to be searching for Ignis at all times, they were human too, and they didn’t have the access to the coffee Gladio had. …Which was probably a good thing, actually. His father had confiscated his last cup.

 

Ulric moved over, joining him next to the table of maps as he inhaled the eggs he was eating. Despite the lack of manners – dammit, Ignis, he never would have even noticed the guy’s manners if it weren’t for him – Gladio appreciated that Ulric was trying to get back out in the field as quickly as possible.

 

“I wonder if they doubled back to avoid us,” Gladio muttered.

 

“Doubt it.” Ulric traced his hand along one part of the map. “They can’t afford to double back now that it’s day. The longer this goes on, the more people are looking for Scientia’s face as the public sees the news. It’ll get harder and harder for them to move without getting spotted from here on out. If they’re smart – and have the information – they’re gonna be looking for the most direct way out that has the least dense population. Or… they’re gonna try and find a place to hole up until nightfall.”

 

Gladio nodded. “Well, they’ve been pretty damn well informed so far. We should be looking at a population map–”

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

Gladio fished out his phone instantly.

 

 **Noct:** Can you please advise my advisor than this silent punishment thing would work better if I knew wth I did that made him so disappointed in my existence. <Unamused Emoji>

 

 **Noct:** Also you can blame him for me skipping training today because run-warping to school IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER got me plenty of exercise. <Snowflake Emoji> <Dizzy Emoji> <Nauseated Emoji>

 

Gladio swore, then raised his voice. “ _Your Majesty!_ ”

 

* * *

 

Noctis frowned as his phone vibrated again in his pocket. Yeah, he’d texted between classes, but Gladio had to know he was at school right now. He was lucky the teacher hadn’t noticed anything.

 

Whatever. Another fifteen minutes and this class would be out. He could check his messages then.

 

…Or Gladio and a Glaive could bust into the classroom at seven till.

 

The entire class jumped, and the teacher cut off her lecture mid-sentence as the door was thrown open.

 

For the ninetieth time that day: what the hell?

 

The Glaive zeroed in on Noctis instantly. “Your Highness, the King sent us to bring you to the Citadel.”

 

Noctis sent Gladio a questioning a look, dread pooling in his stomach. His dad had never pulled him out of school before, and he sure as hell had never sent a Glaive to escort him. 

 

Gladio’s face was grim, his lips pressed into a firm line, and he looked like he hadn’t slept at all recently. “Your father will explain when we get there.”

 

“…Okay.” He stood, grabbing his books. He muttered an apology to the teacher before glancing over his shoulder at Prompto. “Text you later, I guess.”

 

“Wait, here, Noct.” Prompto got up from his desk. “I’ll take your books.”

 

“Thanks…”

 

This had to be bad. _Really_ bad.


	8. 12-14/49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Guess what? I finished the fic today, so I'll be updating it more often! WHOOHOO!

 

Noctis was over halfway to insanity by the time the car finally pulled up to the Citadel. Sitting there while Gladio and the Glaive gave him no answers was absolutely maddening. It would have been nerve-wracking enough if his dad had just pulled him out of school for a day, but Gladio not telling him anything because his dad wanted to talk to him was downright horrifying. In the short trip, Noctis was pretty sure he’d imagined every horrible thing that could have possibly gone wrong.

 

His dad could be on his death bed, or the war had taken a really bad turn, or – please, Six no – something could have happened to Luna, but Noctis was pretty sure those weren’t the case. No, he wasn’t dumb. This had to do with Ignis. This _had_ to do with Ignis, and whatever happened was _bad._

 

Looking back on the morning, Noctis realized it had been staring him in the face since he woke up. Ignis would never have completely ditched him without any word at all. He would have left some scolding note, or text, or voice message, and he never would have left Noctis no way to contact him.

 

Noctis lunged out of the car before the Glaive had even put it in park.

 

“Noct!”

 

Gladio called after him, but Noctis ignored him, jogging into the familiar entrance without hesitation. It was only after he got inside that he realized he didn’t know where his dad was at the moment.

 

There was a flash of blue magic, and the Glaive appeared next to him, gesturing. “This way, Highness.”

 

Noctis blinked, but then nodded. Right. Some Glaives could warp, of course. Noctis was just used to being the only one around who could use warping since he didn’t see the Glaives much.

 

Gladio sprinted up to them, looking vaguely irritated as they all headed for the elevator.

 

Noctis was _this_ close to screaming just to put an end to the silence those two were giving him. He might have actually done that had the elevator doors not opened to reveal some familiar faces.

 

“Dad!” Noctis’ heartbeat kicked up even further at his father’s grim expression. Gladio’s dad even looked dour.

 

“Noctis.” His father laid a hand on his shoulder as soon as he was in reach. “Come with me and I will explain–”

 

“Is he dead?” Noctis barely choked out the words, but he couldn’t wait any longer. “Dad, is Ignis…”

 

His father’s expression softened. “No. No, son, he’s not dead.”

 

Noctis let out his held breath, shoulders slumping in relief.

 

“But his life is very much at stake.”

 

“How?” The words rushed out. “Dad, what is going on?”

 

His father paused for a moment, obviously considering his next words, but Noctis just wanted him to spit it out already.

 

Finally, he spoke. “Last night after he left you apartment, Ignis was taken captive by an Imperial agent. That agent and three mercenaries are currently trying to get him out of the city.”

 

Taken captive. _Kidnapped._ By the Empire. Damn. That wasn’t something Noctis thought he’d ever have to worry about with Ignis. _He_ was the Prince. He’d expected the Empire to try and kidnap _him_ if anything, and he’d never have expected it to happen _here_.

 

But there was only _one_ Imperial.

 

“Mercenaries,” Noctis repeated. “Can’t we bribe them? I mean, if they work for money, can’t we bring them over to our side?”

 

Gladio’s dad spoke up then. “We’ve had no direct contact with them, only a generic idea of where they are in the city. The Glaive are in search of them as we speak.” With that, his eyes drifted over to the Glaive still standing by the elevator. “Ulric?”

 

“Sir.”

 

“You’ve eaten?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Then rejoin your fellow Glaives in the search,” Noctis’ father ordered.

 

“Understood, Your Majesty.” With that, the Glaive was gone, _sprinting_ off without hesitation.

 

Noctis’ father beckoned Noctis with a gesture. “Come, there’s still much to catch you up on.”

 

* * *

 

 

Loqi’s back made an extremely tempting target, Aranea realized as she glared at him. He wouldn’t even be a challenge if she had to take him on in a fight. But she couldn’t take on the entirety of the Glaive – especially without her armor – so that and that alone was keeping the little bastard alive.

 

Loqi was frowning as he looked out the window of the apartment they’d broken into. “We wait for a while more, then we move.”

 

“Whatever.” She chose not to point out that a Glaive could very well see him if one happened to look at the window right then. And with their luck, the apartment owner would come back and find them or something.

 

Well, if they were going to be there another long while, then they might as well get settled in. Everyone could use a break after running around in actual circles trying to avoid the Glaive for the last few hours.

 

The Lucian – _Ignis,_ she reminded herself – was already seated against the wall furthest from the window, his hands now bound tightly together behind his back in a way that would make it extremely difficult for him to cut out of even if he summoned his dagger. He looked… frankly terrible. The spitfire attitude was still in his eyes, but he was more subdued now. Simmering. Almost an intimidating sight since his face was still covered in blood.

 

“You,” Loqi ordered, jabbing a finger at Wedge. “Go keep watch in the hallway.”

 

Wedge didn’t move, looking to Aranea. She gave him a nod, and then he made for the hallway.

 

Loqi grabbed a chair from the small kitchen table and dragged it over to the window before taking a seat. Well, that was both exits covered, then. Just one more person was needed to watch the Luci– _Ignis._

 

“Biggs.” Aranea gestured to the room adjacent to the one they were in where there was a couch and a TV. “Go take a nap. At least some of us need to be conscious later.”  

 

“Aye, Lady A…” he murmured, sullenly heading for the couch.

 

Ugh. That civilian’s death had taken a toll on them all. Except Loqi, apparently. Remorseless asshole.

 

Aranea sighed, walking over to the kitchen cabinets and pulling out a bowl and a towel. She filled the bowl with water before taking it to the Lucian.

 

He didn’t even look at her as she knelt down to his level. That was, until she removed her gloves and reached up to take his glasses.

 

He flinched back, gaze sharp and guarded. “What are you doing?”

 

She lifted the bowl of water and towel. “Cleaning you up. You _want_ to stay like this?”

 

He didn’t say anything, and she took that as a cue to continue, reaching up again and sliding the frames from his face. He looked weirdly young without them, and her brain couldn’t quite sync his actions and how he acted with the youth of his face. She always thought that living behind the Wall would mean those in Insomnia would grow up slower. Be less mature. More spoiled. Well, maybe that was still true, but that sure wasn’t the case with this guy. He was just… well, she was surprised the fire in his eyes didn’t cancel the green out.

 

She cleaned his glasses first, gently wiping the lens with the cloth and being particularly delicate around the crack in the glass.

 

He watched her in total silence, and Aranea got the feeling she wasn’t the only one speculating on the person next to them. She cleared her throat as she set the glasses safely aside. “All right, hold still.”

 

He didn’t look awkward when she brought her hands to his face, but his rigid posture was rather telling in itself. She made sure the hand on his jaw was gentle, but dried blood was never easy to get off anything, and she had to scrub fairly hard at his skin with the cloth.

 

“So, you got a girlfriend?” she asked cheerfully.

 

Her words had the desired effect: he looked entirely confused.

 

“…I beg your pardon?”

 

“You are more stiff than a bolder. And, since I have no plans to snap your neck and there is no reason for you to be this guarded, I’m trying to get your mind focused on something else.” Geez, this stuff clung like no other liquid.

 

He scoffed. “I just saw an innocent man murdered and have his blood on me – I’m afraid you’re going to have to do more than that to keep me distracted.”

 

“Oh. So, is she pretty?”

 

His sigh rushed out through pressed teeth. “I do not have a girlfriend.”

 

“Boyfriend?”

 

“ _What?_ ” Oh, now he looked fully bewildered. Good. “ _No._ I’m straight and single, if you _must_ know.”

 

“Really? With this face?” She resisted laughing at his expression.

 

His mouth hung open for a moment before he managed to find something to say. “My duties to the Crown have granted me little personal time.”

 

“Oh, come on, there’s gotta be something you do besides work.” Finally, she’d managed to clear up that area of his face. “Some kind of fun?”

 

“Of course. I… never mind.”

 

“Well, don’t stop there.”

 

He sighed again. “…I rather enjoy pursuing art of the culinary nature.”

 

She raised an eyebrow. “You cook for fun?”

 

“To put it simply, yes.”

 

She snorted. “Okay, clearly the girls in this city are morons. They ought to be flocking to your door.”

 

He almost managed to cover his chuckle. Almost.

 

“I heard that.” She grinned.

 

“You heard nothing.”

 

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Almost done now. “So… that kitchen’s got some good stuff in it. Don’t suppose you’d be up to fixing lunch?”

He scoffed again. “I’m afraid that would be a rather difficult feat with no hands.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously I’d untie you while you were working.”

 

He frowned, apparently picking up on the fact that she was serious. “I _just_ tried to escape, and you would untie me?”

 

She raised her eyebrow again. “You gonna try and fight your way past all four of us?”

 

He gave her a flat look. “I’m confident in my abilities, Ms. Highwind, but I’m not idiotically _overconfident_.”

 

She shrugged. “Then we have no problems. And it’s Aranea.”

 

“Aranea,” he corrected with a slight inclination of his head. His gaze shifted to Loqi’s form across the room. “I very much doubt he’ll be pleased.”

 

She smirked. “Well, if you’re a good cook, he’ll get over it, won’t he?” With that, she set the cloth aside and grabbed his glasses, returning them to their usual position on his face.  

* * *

  
 

Ignis was right – Loqi was anything but pleased, but he begrudgingly allowed Ignis to be untied so long as Aranea watched him like a hawk. That wasn’t a problem for Aranea, as watching the guy cook was actually a surprisingly interesting pastime. Even without knowing where anything was in the kitchen, he had a weird sort of confident grace as he secured all the ingredients he needed and began using them.

 

This was therapy, Aranea realized. A normal stress reliever for him. He was so absolutely absorbed in his task that he was actually completely and totally relaxed. He didn’t at all seem like he was a captive.

 

An irritated scowl currently pulled at his brow. “This must be the most poorly stocked spice cabinet in Lucis… Pass me the spoon, please.”

 

Aranea smiled, amused at this change from earlier. She picked up the large spoon near her and passed it to him.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

Well, she hadn’t tasted it yet, but it smelled amazing, despite the lack of spices he wanted. Even Loqi was sending glance of interest now.

 

There was a yawn from the other room as Biggs walked in, rubbing his eyes. He stopped. He blinked. “…The ’ell is all this?”

 

“Lunch,” Ignis said simply. “Do wash your hands before it’s ready.”

 

Aranea snickered.

 

Loqi sent Ignis a look of disbelief.

 

Biggs just blinked a few more times. “Sure thing…” 


	9. 15-18/49

Okay. So the guy _was_ one hell of a cook. Damn.

 

Aranea was seriously resisting the urge to wolf down the entire plate in front of her after she took the first bite. But no. She was a strong woman with a lot of self-control. She would resist. Resist and savor.

 

That and the plate was snatched from her.

 

“Can’t you at least wait until we’re at the table?” Ignis huffed, setting her confiscated plate on the table before returning to get the others.

 

“Oi, what’s everyone want to drink?” Biggs asked, his head in the fridge. “We got lemonade, cream soda, and some beer.”

 

“I’ll take the beer.” Aranea sat at the table, but waited to grab her fork. 

 

“Ms. Highwind, I will not have you becoming intoxicated on the job,” Loqi snapped.

 

Aranea rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because I’m gonna get drunk on _one_ beer. Relax. My tolerance is a _hell_ of a lot higher than that.”

 

Ignis made a disgusted noise, muttering under his breath, “A beer with pasta… Borderline sacrilegious…”

 

Aranea shot him a raised eyebrow. “And what exactly do you even know about beer? You’re nineteen. You’re only saying that because you read it somewhere, aren’t you?” His glare told her everything she needed to know. “Hah! You’ve never even had a beer, have you?”

 

He set the last plates on the table. “I’ll be fine with water, thank you. Is anyone going to call your last man in?”

 

“Yeah, I got him.” Aranea pushed up from the table and walked out the door, beckoning Wedge in with a single hand motion before returning to her seat.

 

Wedge looked entirely baffled. “What’s all this?”

 

“Lunch, obviously.” Biggs held up several bottles. “What you want to drink?” 

 

Wedge picked out one of the sodas and took his seat. Biggs – having gotten no reply from Loqi – gave him the pink lemonade.

 

Aranea watched curiously as Biggs set a can of that fancy Ebony coffee at Ignis’ place instead of water. Ignis hesitated, giving Biggs a surprised look. Biggs gave him a slight, almost guilty-looking smile, shuffling over to his seat awkwardly.

 

Huh. What was that about?

 

The atmosphere was very tense once Loqi joined them at the table. So tense that when Aranea popped the lid off her beer, it was the only sound. Well, if nobody else was going to take the first bite of their food, then she’d–

 

Ignis plucked up his fork elegantly, eating in a way only someone who’d been in the presence of royals would be able to do and look so comfortable. Thankfully, that started a chain reaction that got everyone started on their meals. Still, it was awkwardly quiet.

 

“…Mate, this is some damn good pasta,” Biggs complimented, clearly trying to get a conversation started.

 

A few mild words of thanks were all he got in return.

 

Well… points for trying. They were going to need something more reaction-prompting.

 

Aranea waved her beer at Ignis, smirking. “So, want a sip?”

 

Ignis took a slow drink of his Ebony instead, though she could see a hint of irritated amusement in his eyes. “As you previously noted, I am underage for alcohol. I’m afraid I will have to pass on your offer.”

 

“You might as well,” Loqi said offhandedly, his attention more on his food than on them. “Not as though you’re going to reach twenty-one.”

 

Biggs and Wedge both froze – Wedge while he was chewing and Biggs with a bite halfway to his mouth. Ignis seemed more shocked at Loqi’s directness than afraid.

 

Biggs dropped his hand to the table. “The bloody _’ell_ is wrong with you?”

 

Loqi scoffed, looking borderline entertained. “I’m only saying what you should already know. Have you seen yourselves? You’re like a group of children with a puppy – now that you know his name and have seen him preform a few tricks, you’re getting attached. Might I remind you that we’re handing him over to the Empire upon our arrival back home? He’s an information source, so somehow I doubt he’ll get to live to the ripe old age as he likely suspected.”

 

Oh, this guy was so lucky she couldn’t hurt him. Physically, anyway. Aranea opened her mouth to give him a tongue lashing in return, but Ignis beat her to the punch.

 

“Now there is where you are mistaken.” His voice was eerily calm as he stared Loqi down, setting his fork off to the side and lacing his fingers together atop the table. “I am a sworn member of Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum’s Crownsgaurd, and I have never been under illusions about what that duty might one day come to require. If I ever speculated on what my future might entail, it was not a lengthy and luxurious life that would end with me in a satin bed with my loved ones by my side. My duty to the Crown does not stop when times grow difficult. It stops nowhere. My devotion is absolute, and I fully expected to show that at some point by placing myself between someone such as you and my future King.” 

 

There was a moment where Aranea thought Ignis’ words might have shut Loqi up, but it took him only a few seconds for his haughty attitude to return.

 

“Those are pretty words, Lucian, but I do wonder if they’ll hold up.” He chuckled. “You have spirit, I’ll grant you that, but taking a bullet and torture are two very different things.”

 

Ignis’ steely look remained as he retrieved his fork, echoing his earlier words. “You’ll gain no information from me.”

 

“So you say, but I’ve seen stronger men than you break. And the sooner you do, the easier you’ll make it on yourself.”

 

“You mean the sooner I’ll be put out of my misery by you ending my life?” Ignis spun his fork, gathering the noodles onto it. “It will never come to that.”

 

Damn it all. As much as she hated – and would never admit – it, she agreed with Loqi on this. Ignis was a tough guy, ridiculously so for someone not even in their twenties, but he didn’t stand a chance against the Empire’s pain farmers. They were too good at their jobs. They _had_ broken many stronger victims. Even if she did actually believe in the Empire’s cause, she’d have a hard time justifying this.

 

Or… would she? She’d never supported a cause like Loqi, and certainly not like Ignis. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have her entire life dedicated to something like that. To believe in something so strongly that she’d not only put it above her life, but above the lives of the ones she cared about the most, too. Above her own personal morals, even.

 

No… That wasn’t quite right. Clearly, Loqi and Ignis had very different types of dedication. There was no way Ignis would so easily condone torture of someone his age. He definitely had some standards Loqi didn’t.

 

Damn Loqi. He was right. Aranea had killed before – done it and walked away without blinking, even, at this stage – but this was different. She was getting attached in the sense that Ignis was becoming more of a real person by the minute. It was so much easier to walk away when you didn’t know the victims’ stories.

 

She shouldn’t have asked Ignis those questions. Now she knew he was a workaholic who was probably more lonely than he cared to admit, and that he enjoyed cooking and used it as a form of stress relief. Personal details. Details that made handing him over to save her and her men’s skin a hell of a lot harder.

 

“Do eat up, Ms. Highwind,” Loqi said. “We’ll be moving out again once we’re done here.”

 

“To where, exactly?” Aranea deadpanned. “You can’t contact your source anymore. Do you even have any idea how to get us out of here?”

 

Loqi did not look pleased at her words. “As a matter of fact, I do. We need only keep out of the Glaive’s eye. I know their search patterns well enough for that. Now, I suggest you make sure you’re ready to go when we do – we won’t be stopping again until nightfall.”

 

Nightfall? Why stop at nightfall while within the city? There were no daemons here. That should have been the best time to move. What was Loqi up to? 

 

* * *

 

_“But, Dad, I can help!”_

_“No, Noctis, you can’t!”_

_Noctis snapped his mouth shut. His father very, very rarely raised his voice at him._

_His father sighed, expression softening again as he rested both hands on his cane. “Noctis, I have every member of the Glaive and Guard working relentlessly to find Ignis. What can you do here in the next few hours that they cannot? Return to your apartment and get some dinner, rest for a bit, and then you may return.”_

 

Noct slammed the door to his apartment, yanking at the tie around his neck. At least one good thing about this was that he’d get to change out of this stupid uniform. He threw the tie aside without even looking where it landed.

 

Hours he’d been at the Citadel, and there was still no sign of Ignis. He wanted to get back as soon as possible. With that in mind, he headed directly to his kitchen, having absolutely no idea what Ignis had in his fridge at the moment–

 

…Why were his lights on and why was there music playing?

 

Noctis was about to summon his sword when a familiar head of bond hair popped up from his couch. “Noct!”

 

“Prompto?” Noctis certainly did not jump. “What the hell are you doing here?”

 

“Uhh, waiting for you? Duh?” Prompto rolled off the couch, looking oddly skittish, even for him. “Had to get your books back to you somehow anyway. You okay? Is there any news on Iggy? Did you find the kidnappers?”

 

It took a few seconds for Noctis to remember that Ignis’ face had been on every TV screen in the city all day. Right. Of course Prompto would have heard. …He shouldn’t have, though. Noctis should have texted him and told him so he wouldn’t have to find out that way.

 

Noctis shook his head miserably. “My dad forced me to come here to eat and clear my head…”

 

Prompto’s shoulders visibly slouched a bit before bouncing right back up. “Oh… well, then, we gotta do that so you can get back and help find him! And maybe I can go take pictures around the city and see what I can find!”

 

“No!” Noctis snapped his head up immediately. “Prompto, no, one guy has already died from being in the wrong place at the wrong time! You can’t get involved in this!”

 

Prompto’s shoulders stayed slumped this time. “Yeah… you’re right… I just wanna help find Iggy, though, and I can’t warp around the city like a Glaive.”

 

_…He_ couldn’t. “…I can.”  

 

Prompto’s eyes widened. “What? Dude, no, that’s not what I mea–”

 

“Look out the window, Prompto!” Noctis threw his arm out, gesturing behind Prompto. “This city is huge! Every extra hand could mean the difference, and I can’t just sit here and _eat_ and _relax_ while Ignis is being dragged around by Imperials because of his connection to _me!_ ”

 

“Yeah, but if your dad finds out, he’ll just send the Glaive out to find you instead, and that won’t help Iggy at all!”

 

That was a really good point. Unless…

 

Noctis snapped his fingers. “I need your phone.”

 

“…Whhhhhyyy?”

 

“Because you’re right – my dad will totally chase me down if he knows what I’m doing. But not if he thinks I’m still here.”

 

“Oh…” Prompto bit his lip. “So… you want me to take your phone and, like… make up some reason why you’re still here in a few hours?”

 

“Nah, I just need you to keep me updated if they get suspicious or start messaging me. That’s why I’m gonna take your phone – I’ll pretend I’m you and tell them that you found me asleep in my apartment. Doubt my dad will wanna wake me up and bring me back into this mess.”

 

“Oooh, gotcha.” Prompto fished out his own phone, holding onto it for a minute. “Noct… are you sure this is a good idea?”

 

“No. But it’s the best I’ve got.” Noctis sighed, yanking at the hair on the back of his head. “I just… I have to do _something._ All this time Ignis has been looking after me… I-I think I always took him for granted, you know? Like this morning… I just assumed he was gonna be here, because he always is.”

 

“Yeah… I get ya…” Prompto handed over his phone. “Just… be careful out there, okay? And eat something before you go! I know how you are on magic training days!”

 

Noctis chuckled weakly. “Yeah…” Stasis. He couldn’t let that hold him back today.

 

He _had_ to find Ignis.


	10. 19-22/49

As much as Aranea was loath to admit it, Loqi did actually seem to know where he was going. The maze-like route, despite its indirectness, never led them into a dead-end. Their progress across the city was slow, but it _was_ progress, much to Ignis’ obviously growing unease.

 

Again, the guy was great at keeping his facial expressions under control, but he had less of a handle on the set of his shoulders. He was seriously starting to worry now. Before she’d seen him observing every angle, looking for any chance to turn things in his favor, but Loqi pushing on so confidently despite the setbacks was concerning him. That and his element of surprise with his weapons was gone.

 

Oh, Ignis was smart, but he’d made a mistake. He should have run as soon as he’d knocked out Biggs. He’d be free right now if he had.

 

“Excellent,” Loqi said as they reached a wall with more of that graffiti on it. The graffiti was directly above a dumpster, and Loqi motioned to Biggs and Wedge. “Move that–”

 

Loqi was cut off by a Glaive landing atop the dumpster with a loud thud, an envelope in hand. “No need.” The Glaive hopped to the ground, pulling off his hood. He smirked at Ignis and then at Loqi. “Have some trouble earlier?”

 

“ _Luche._ ” Ignis’ tone was laced with disgust. “So, you’re involved with this as well.”

 

Huh. So Loqi had more than one source in the city.

 

Aranea instinctively laid a hand between Ignis’ shoulder blades, trying to calm him as he looked about ready to rush the Glaive even with his hands tied. She doubted he would anyway, but still.

 

Luche mockingly bowed, then handed the envelop to Loqi. “The General isn’t pleased with how you handled events earlier.”

 

Loqi scowled. “I can assure you, it was not planned.”

 

“Well, improvise better,” Luche snapped. “The rest of the Glaive is more determined to find you than ever – the Lucian public is an uproar over the Empire killing a civilian in cold blood. They’re actively trying to find you now.”

 

“All the more reason for us to keep moving–”

 

“No. You’re to reach the point on that map and stay put until dark.”

 

Sensible. Why was that a change in plans? Why hadn’t that been the plan to start with?

 

“You would have us take our leave of the city in the dead of night?” Loqi demanded. “What of the daemons?”

 

Luche rolled his eyes. “You’ll take your leave of the city at dawn. You’ll cross most of the city at night. The usually unpopulated areas you were supposed to use have been flooded with Lucians searching for you now.”

 

Oh, right. Aranea almost snorted. They didn’t want to leave the city during the night. Normally, she’d get that, but they knew how close her ship was. Did Loqi really not think they’d be able to make it that far? Amateur.

 

“Then what alternate route are we supposed to use?” Loqi questioned.  

 

Luche rolled his eyes again. “It’s all in the envelope. Just follow the instructions. You be at the gate at dawn, and we’ll have the diversion ready. Now scram.”

 

Dammit. The Empire must have really wanted the information Ignis had in his head to go to this much planning to get him. At this point, there wasn’t a lot that anyone could do to make sure it wouldn’t succeed. The Lucians were good, but if the Empire had enough people in their ranks to create a diversion that would let Loqi slip out of the city…

 

There wasn’t much hope left for Ignis at this point. They were only a few hours from the edge of the city.

 

Again, Aranea looked to Biggs and Wedge and reminded herself why she had to go along with this.

 

Him or them.

 

Those were her only choices.  

 

* * *

 

 

An office building.

 

That was where they were supposed to hide out until nightfall. Again, Aranea hated what a good plan it was. Given the amount of time it had taken them to get here, the staff had already left. The building was empty, but in a populated living area. Not somewhere the Glaive would expect them to be. And it also severed another purpose – a view of most of the city from its glass-walled offices.

 

Loqi chuckled deeply, standing with his arms spread out as he stood in the evening sun. “Do you see this, Lucian? This city… it will be such a spectacular sight once it’s under Imperial rule. And you will be the one to help us make it that way.”

 

With her hold on his arm, Aranea could feel Ignis’ pulse race beneath her gloved fingers. His gaze was fixed on one part of city in particular – the very close, very visible gate. His tight expression melted then, giving way to resignation as he whispered, “You’ll gain no information from me…”

 

His eyes no longer carried the fire it had before, and Aranea almost wanted to slap him. He couldn’t accept that torture was the only path open to him now – it wasn’t right.

 

Beside her, Wedge’s hands balled into fists.

 

Astrals… Was saving them even worth it if they were going to have to live with this? She knew them, and she knew one thing absolutely for sure at the moment: the only reason they were still going along with this was because she was.

* * *

 

 

Noctis panted, stumbling to a stop and resting his hands on his knees as his forehead dripped sweat onto the ground. He didn’t give Prompto enough credit for doing this every day. Noctis had brought a jacket to avoid being as cold as this morning, but now he was just dying of heat stroke at the same time his lungs were screaming in rebellion to each icy breath.

 

He was not a runner, but he couldn’t just warp everywhere.

 

Yanking down the zipper, Noctis took off his jacket, tying the sleeves around his waist instead. He had to keep going.

 

Gladio always had said he just needed proper motivation to train harder. Well, he’d found motivation, all right, and he wasn’t giving up any time soon.

 

For once in their lives, Ignis _needed_ him. Noctis wasn’t going to let him down like he had the last million times. If he failed this time, Ignis wouldn’t be there with a scowl and an exasperated sigh. He wouldn’t be there at all. Ever.

 

Noctis growled, summoning and hurling his sword.

 

Ignis was a genius. He’d figure out some way to delay until they could get to him, right?

 

If there was anything Noctis knew about his friend, it was that he was stubborn. Ignis would never just lie down and die.

 

* * *

 

 

Aranea sighed, leaning against the vending machine in the hallway as she decided what she wanted to get. Biggs, Wedge, and Loqi had all scattered around the floor they were on for various reasons, leaving just her and Ignis near office S21, which seemed to have the best view of the city from what Aranea had seen. Ignis was staring at that view now, completely silent as he sat with his back resting against the small wall separating rooms S21 and S22. Well… resting as best he could with his arms still tied behind his back.

 

The open doorway sat between them, and it felt like an actual divide. On one hand, Aranea was reluctant to pull him into another conversation and learn more about him, but watching him crane his neck so he could rest his head against the wall and stare longingly around the corner at the city while the sun went down was honestly almost as bad.

 

His fire was completely gone. Sometime between meeting that Glaive and now, it had just started to drain. Maybe when he realized just how many of the people he thought were his allies were actually helping sell him out.

 

“You want anything from here?” Aranea asked him before she could stop herself. Well, she was going to have to hit Wedge up for a little of the money she’d seen him rob from a register earlier anyway, so why not grab the guy something?

 

Ignis didn’t even blink, continuing to stare out at the sunset as its gold-red hue encased the city. “No, thank you.”

 

“You sure? We probably won’t stop again. I could hang onto it for later.” Oh, well, that was great. Enforce the fact that they were one step away turning him over to the Empire.

 

“I’d rather my last meal be something of more substance than four hundred calories wrapped in two bites of fake chocolate, if you don’t mind,” he said dryly. “The pasta earlier will keep me sustained long enough.”

 

Yeesh. He got even sassier when he wasn’t giving it effort. “…Right.” She looked back at the machine, wishing it spat out options instead of carbs.

 

Dammit. Dammit it all.

 

She really wanted to hit something. Like Loqi. Or spear something with her lance. Like Loqi.

 

“I don’t blame you, you know.”

 

She blinked, sharply turning her gaze back to him. He still had his eyes locked on the city, but he _was_ talking to her.

 

He licked his lips. “Perhaps I’m naive, but it seems to me that Loqi has you captive just as much as me. You aren’t afraid of him, but you fear for your comrades and what your refusal to comply could cost them, no?”

 

She let her silence be her answer.

 

“It’s all right,” he said, his voice only just above a whisper. “I understand. Truly.”

 

Son of a… just stop. This was making things _worse._ “Why are you telling me this?”

 

“Because I see your conflict, and I thought it best said before we part ways. After all, I don’t have much longer.”

 

“No…” she agreed. “You don’t. And you need to focus everything you got on being prepared for the living hell you are going to face.”

 

He scoffed softly. “It won’t make a difference.”

 

Aranea gritted her teeth in irritation. “Look, I know you’re dedicated, okay? No one is questioning that. But you can’t just sneeze at torture and see it as a for sure thing that you won’t give up the information they want–”

 

“I _will_ give it up.”

 

Wait… what? She scowled, waiting for him to continue.

 

His expression was tighter now, but he never tore his gaze from the city. “As I said before… I may be naive on some matters, but I’m not stupid. I’ll do my best. I will try my damnedest not to give them what they want, but whether it’s sooner or later… they will break me. Loqi was right. More experienced, stronger men than me have caved at the Empire’s hands. I’m no special case.”

 

Aranea tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. He’d been throwing false bravado in Loqi’s face this whole time. He’d _always_ known it would be over for him if they got him out of the city. That it would likely be over for Lucis with the intel he had to have and the undercover Imperial force in the Glaive.

 

The silence between them stretched. She really didn’t know how to reply to that last bit.

 

“…Is there a vending machine with water in it around?”

 

“Biggs went to look for the drink one. I’ll have to ask him.” Aranea pushed off the vending machine. If the most she could do was get him a water, she was going to get him a damn water. “…This isn’t some ploy to get me away so you can try and escape again, is it?”

 

Ignis chuckled softly. “You have my word. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Not that he really could anyway. Even if he managed to get free, Loqi was guarding the elevator and stairway.

 

She’d started to leave when his words stopped her.

 

“Thank you, Aranea.”

 

The words themselves weren’t odd, but his tone was. He didn’t sound like he was thanking her for water. Was it a thank you for not being a horrible kidnapper? Thanks for listening? Thanks for not being happy about the kidnaping in general? She didn’t know.

 

“Yeah… sure thing.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis watched Aranea turn a corner, and he let out a shaky breath, shifting so he could rise to his knees. It was the only way he could get the leverage he needed.

 

She trusted his word, and he’d not break his word on that. Escape was no longer an option for him, even if he could cut the bindings on his hands, which was doubtful. The bindings were tied in a way that made it difficult to move his hands at all. There was just enough room to summon his dagger, but cutting free would have been a lengthy process.

 

But he didn’t need to cut free.

 

He called on his blade, its familiar weight and shape in his hand almost a comfort. Almost. If he weren’t summoning it for what he was.

 

His breathing exercises were long forgotten now as his throat gave a hitch. He didn’t need to calm down. Not now. A fast pulse would be a benefit in this case.

 

He scrunched his eyes shut as he contorted back to get the right angle, gently drawing the blade up the inside of his right thigh in search of the correct point.

 

One cut. That was all he needed. One cut, and this was all over. Noct would be safe. Gladio. Prompto. His family. His King. Lucis.

 

Six, how had it come to this? He should have just run when he had the chance. He’d gotten the information he wanted, but now that was useless. His warnings about the Captain would never be heard. He could only hope someone else would discover the truth.

 

He gritted his teeth, barely smothering a yell of pain as his own blade dug into his skin. His head fell back against the wall behind him, chest heaving as air hissed past his teeth while he endured in silent agony. Blood soaked his blade and gloves, raining on the carpeted floor in time with the sweat that was running down his neck and onto his jacket.

 

He released the dagger with a gasp, letting it vanish into crystal shards that blinked out of existence.

 

It was done.

 

He slumped against the wall, breathing heavily as moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes.

 

_No._ He wouldn’t die here, in this dark, lonely hallway.

 

Stubbornly pushing himself off the wall with his shoulder, he maneuvered himself into office S21. The floor swallowed his groans as he dragged himself across the room. Six, it _hurt_ , but he didn’t have long enough to take it slowly. Average time until unconsciousness when the femoral artery was severed was thirty seconds.

 

Somehow, he managed to make the trip, pushing himself up to rest one shoulder against the glass wall.

 

Insomnia lay before him, lit up by only the last traces of sunlight.

 

This. _This_ was what he was dying for. His beautiful home and those who lived in it. He could be at peace with that.

 

His breathing had grown shallow, and he dropped his head forwards against the glass. The coolness of the glass seeped past his bangs, his spectacles a hair’s width away from contact.

 

The tears gently fell now, blurring his vision, and he blinked them away in an attempt to hold on to his clear view of the city as long as possible.

 

Cold. He felt so cold.

 

A soft sob escaped his mouth, his voice cracking when he tried to use it. “I’m so sorry, Noct… I wish there was another way, but I swore I’d do whatever it took to keep you safe.”

 

Oh, Noct… Had it even been that long ago that the young Prince had been so concerned over his father’s health that he’d barely been able to stay focused on his schoolwork and the housekeeping? For all his apathetic attitude, Ignis knew how deeply his friend could care. This would tear him apart.

 

Gladio… Prompto… They would deal with their grief in their own ways, but they’d have to look after Noct as well.

 

Gladio would shoulder most of the burden. His job would become more difficult. But he would manage. He was strong, emotionally and physically.

 

Prompto… He knew all too well that the boy didn’t have many friends. Perhaps he and Noct and Gladio would be brought closer by this. It was the only good he could hope for.

 

“I wish you all the best, my friends…” Ignis felt his energy draining, his eyes slipping fully closed. “Godspeed…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My fingers slipped. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> UPDATE: 
> 
> THERE IS NOW ART FOR THIS CHAPTER THANKS TO SOME AWESOME PEOPLE. 
> 
> [Here's Ignis' attempted suicide.](https://www.deviantart.com/shinigami-merchant/art/49-Hours-Art-Sacrifice-755553227)
> 
>  
> 
> [And another take on it!](https://www.deviantart.com/celestial-celly/art/The-22nd-Hour-779643414)


	11. 22-24/49

Aranea backtracked down the hall, a water bottle in one hand and coins jingling in the other. It wasn’t a welcome sound – just an unpleasant reminder of the profession that she normally loved but hated at the moment.

 

_“No kidnappings”_ was going in the contract next time she found someone who wanted to hire them. No matter how this all turned out, she was done with the Empire. They could kiss her a–

 

What. The. Hell.

 

She stopped, noticing the very obvious absence of the man she’d left next to the vending machine. Okay, so in hindsight, it was stupid that she’d expected him to keep his word, but really? Where was he going to go?

 

“Oh, come on…” She pocketed the coins with an annoyed sigh. This was difficult enough without Ignis pulling this kind of pointless crap. She really didn’t want to fight him. If this was some sort of attempt to ambush her, she was going to be very unhappy–

 

Oh, Six… She was anything but squeamish around blood, but the sight of the _puddle_ of it where she’d left Ignis had dread making her stomach do a flip.

 

She sprinted over, her eyes following the smeared trail of crimson across the carpet until she found its source.

 

It was a horrifying, morbid sight that looked like it could have been the screen shot for a suicide awareness poster. The way Ignis was slumped, his forehead resting against the glass while the sunset-lit city lay before him… He might have looked peaceful if it weren’t for the blood trail and how his arms were still restrained behind him.

 

“ _Shit._ ” Aranea bolted to his side, sliding to her knees and pressing her fingers to his neck. _There._ He still had a pulse, but it was weak. “ _Biggs! Wedge! I need a potion in here, stat!_ ” She’d already used her last potion on Biggs earlier.

 

Gently, she pulled Ignis away from the window, his glassed falling off as she did so. She ignored that, laying him out on the floor and searching for the wound. No slit throat – his torso was blood free, actually. His head dropped back gently onto the carpet, and Aranea’s stomach gave another flip as she spotted his still-wet cheeks.

 

She swore again, his words coming to mind with entirely different meanings now.

 

_You’ll gain no information from me._

 

He’d always known he wouldn’t have a chance against the Empire’s torture, but he had meant those words every time he said them. He always had this in his head as a last resort if he couldn’t escape.

 

_Found it._ Dammit, this guy was nothing if not efficient. It might already be too late to save him, and if it wasn’t, it would be soon.

 

The thud of multiple sets of footsteps were just outside.

 

“Lady A?” Wedge asked as the three of them passed the doorway.

 

“Oh, Six…” Biggs said shakily, looking as white as his shirt.

 

“What the _hell_ happened?” Loqi shoved in front of the other two.

 

“He cut his femoral artery.” Aranea snapped her fingers, holding her hand out. “ _Potion._ ”

 

Wedge motioned with his empty hands. “Out.”

 

Loqi looked on the verge of having a stroke.

 

Desperately, the three of them looked to Biggs. He had his hand over his pocket, and Aranea knew he had to have one left.

 

“Biggs?”

 

His jaw was set firmly, his mouth pressed into in a grim line.

 

Aranea’s first instinct was to scream at him, but then… she understood. Saving him was crueler than letting him die.

 

“What are you _doing?_ ” Loqi hissed, confiscating the potion and nearly dropping it before he cracked it over Ignis’ form.

 

There honestly wasn’t much visible change. A potion wouldn’t replace blood already lost. But Aranea checked his pulse a few moments later, and it was still thrumming steadily.

 

“Well?” Loqi demanded.

 

“He’ll live. For now,” she reported. _Live so he can die in an even worse way later._

 

Loqi rounded on Biggs, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Do you have a death wish?”

 

“Not for myself,” Biggs bit back.

 

Loqi’s expression twisted into true fury. “Keep testing my limits, and I will–”

 

“Oh, you’ll what?” Biggs swatted his hand away. “’Ave us killed? You’ve already made that threat a dozen times, mate – it can only be so threatening!”

 

A weak groan interrupted their bickering, drawing attention back to Ignis once again.

 

His brow was knit with confusion as he slowly blinked, taking in his surroundings. Aranea could tell the exact moment when he realized what had happened, because his face filled with dread. “No…”

 

“I’m afraid your little stunt has once again _failed._ ” Loqi punctuated his sentence by taking a step forwards and punching Ignis right in the face, knocking him out again.

 

“Loqi, what the hell?” Aranea snapped. As furious as she was at the action in general, it didn’t even make any sense from the standpoint of finishing the mission. “You said we were supposed to be moving now!”

 

“We _are._ ” Loqi headed for the door, glaring at Biggs. “ _You_ can carry him.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

Noct was exhausted. So much so that he was actually thankful when Prompto’s phone buzzed. He stopped, staggering over to sink down against the side of a building as he pulled the phone out. His chest heaved for a few moments, and he squinted at the screen until he caught his breath enough to make it stop wavering so he could actually read it.

 

It was from _his_ phone. A message from Prompto, then.

 

**The prince and stuff:** Duuude, u keep getting messages.

 

**The prince and stuff:** Don’t think I can stay quiet much longer. D: D: D:

 

**The prince and stuff:** Not even u sleep this much.

 

Noctis glanced at the time. Almost nine already. Dammit. No wonder his dad was getting suspicious. Probably the only reason Noctis had been left alone this long was because his dad and everyone around him were so busy. It had been hours since the text he’d sent Gladio – as Prompto – saying he was over at the apartment and Noctis was sleeping.

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

The phone lit up again.

 

**Gladiolus Decimus Merdius:** You still at Noct’s place?

 

Noctis let his thumbs hover over the screen. Changing his messages to sound like Prompto’s required some thought.

 

**PhotoBOMBer:** Yup.  <Thumbs Up Emoji> <Game Controller Emoji>

 

**Gladiolus Decimus Merdius:** He still asleep?

 

**PhotoBOMBer:** NOCT out cold.  <Smirking Emoji>

 

Noctis grinned, proud of himself as he got back to his feet. That sounded just like Prompto, but it would only be so long before they figured out Noctis really wasn’t at his apartment.

 

**Gladiolus Decimus Merdius:** Seriously? Prompto, this isn’t the time for jokes. Iggy’s life is on the line.

 

…Dammit. He was an idiot. Of course Prompto wouldn’t be _that_ cheerful in this situation.

 

**PhotoBOMBer:** …Sry.  <Sad Emoji>

 

**PhotoBOMBer:** I’ll let u know when Noct wakes up.

 

**Gladiolus Decimus Merdius:** I’m gonna come over there and drag his ass out of bed before too long.

 

Great. Just what he needed. Once that actually happened, Noctis’ search was over. His father could have Prompto’s phone tracked easily, and Noctis couldn’t throw it away. Firstly, Prompto would make him feel terrible about it, and secondly, what good was finding Ignis if he couldn’t tell anyone where he was?

 

Growling under his breath, Noctis took off again into the darkened streets. Maybe he needed to check closer to the Wall.

 

* * *

 

 

Aranea had her hands balled into fists as they continued on, her breath huffing out through her gritted teeth. She didn’t know if Loqi was pleased or not with his plan, but she was pissed either way. Ignis may have been lean, but Biggs was still struggling with carrying his weight so far. And as hard as it was to watch Biggs staggering along, Ignis’ pale skin and slowly darkening eye made it even worse. Her one conciliation was that they were making much slower progress.

 

If only a real Glaive would stumble upon them. That might solve a lot of problems.

 

Biggs stumbled over something, nearly dropping Ignis in the process. Wedge looked ready to leap in and help, but last time he offered to, Loqi had told him to stand down because he wanted Biggs to do it.

 

“Loqi,” Aranea snapped. “If he’s going to carry him the whole way, he’s going to need breaks.”

 

Loqi let out a disgusted noise. “We’ve barely been walking.”

 

“Yeah, says the guy not carrying just under two hundred pounds of extra weight – _he needs a break._ ” Aranea dared him to argue with her tone.

 

Loqi heaved an irritated sigh, pulling out the new phone he’d gotten from the envelop. He beckoned them to follow him as he picked the lock on the doors of another office building and let them into a lobby. “Ten minutes. No more.” He stayed by the door, arms crossed as the rest of them filed in. He shot Wedge a glare. “You. Stay here and guard the right. I’ll take the left.”

 

Something she couldn’t actually fault him for – the doors were large and glass. Two guards _would_ be better suited for watching it.

 

Aranea followed Biggs as he set Ignis down so he was upright and leaning against the lobby desk. Biggs sighed tiredly, stretching his arms.

 

Aranea pointed to a water dispenser nearby. “Go ahead and get some.”

 

He nodded. “You need any?”

 

She pulled out the water bottle from her jacket pocket. “I’m set, thanks.” She knelt down in front of Ignis, pulling his coat lapel aside and reaching for his vest pocket. She knew she’d seen him place a handkerchief there earlier after he’d finished changing in the mall. She found it easily, tugging it out of the pocket, but she pulled out something else as well.

 

She frowned, picking the paper up from the floor. It was a small picture – _meant_ for a pocket by the looks of it – with a messy _Happy birthday, Specs!!!_ penned on the back. Specs. Huh. It fit him. She flipped it over.

 

Even in the darkness of the room, the joy of the four young men in the photo was palpable. Two of the men she didn’t recognize – some scrawny blond kind who looked younger than Ignis and a muscly guy who looked a little older – but the kid sitting closest to Ignis in the picture was undeniably the Prince.

Fresh waves of guilt washed over her, and she replaced the photo in his pocket before wetting the handkerchief with her water bottle. He had some dried blood under his nose that she wanted to get off. Thankfully, his nose didn’t look broken. His eye had take a greater part of the impact. Obviously, as it was almost the same purple as the inside of his coat. His cheek was bruised too, but there really wasn’t anything she could do about any of it. Not with their lack of potion supply.

 

Gently, she cleaned up the blood with the wet cloth. Much longer in this city, and she’d be making a habit of this.

 

Ignis stirred under her touch, probably from the pain. His eyes dragged open slowly, looking tired and… angry. He pulled away from her.

 

Aranea sighed. “Really? This is how you wanna play it?”

 

“I had a chance to end this for the both of us,” he huffed. “Why didn’t you let me?”

 

“Loqi is the one that dropped the potion on you, not me.”

 

He scoffed. “And was he the one who found me?”

 

She didn’t answer him. He was right. She shouldn’t have called for help, but it was her instinct to act fast when an… ally was in danger. Ally. Right. Because they were anywhere near _that_.

 

_He could be,_ something in the back of her head said. _If you went to the Lucians._

 

But really, what would actually happen if she did that? What would happen to Biggs and Wedge? A nineteen-year-old’s word – no matter how well respected he was – could only go so far. After all this, the Lucians would hardly be welcoming. Not like they’d just let the three of them go.

 

“…Where are my spectacles?” Ignis asked after a moment, squinting.

 

“Oh, here.” Aranea fished the glasses out from her other pocket. “You’re lucky they fell off earlier. Loqi might have punched you anyway.”

 

“Of that, I have no doubt,” he muttered as she gingerly returned them to their usual place. At least now he could see well out of one eye, since his swollen one probably wasn’t the clearest.

 

“I see you’re awake again.” Loqi glared at Ignis as he walked over.

 

Aranea stood, keeping herself somewhat between them. So help her, if he tried to–

 

“I’ll have to remedy that.”

 

Ignis flinched as Loqi drew his hand back.

 

Oh, hell no.

 

Aranea pulled her leg back, nailing Loqi in the chest with a side kick and knocking him on his ass. “Enough, Loqi! You’re here to deliver him, not take out your anger issues on him!”

 

Loqi shoved himself up on his elbows, face contorted in fury. “Don’t test me, Highwind!”

 

Her fingertips thrummed, and her lance appeared before she hurled it to land an inch from his head, flashing with bright red energy. “Don’t test _me!_ ”

 

Loqi jerked to the side, his face paling. “…I can still have you hunted down by the Empire!”

 

“And that is the only reason _you_ are still alive!” Aranea thundered. “Got that? Because you are treading a very thin line here, Loqi, and if you push much further, we’ll gladly take the consequences in exchange for getting rid of you!”

 

“Um. Lady A…” Wedge muttered, hand on his weapon.

 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Loqi hissed, shoving himself to his feet. “You’d have the Lucians and Imperial army after you. You’d have no sanctuary on this planet!”

 

“ _Lady A…_ ”

 

She snorted. “Yeah, maybe to give us an award–”

 

“Lady A!” Wedge pulled out his gun, eyes narrowed at the door.

 

Aranea and Loqi both turned their attention to him.

 

Aranea grabbed her lance from where it was sticking into the floor. “What? What did you see?”

 

“Glowing blue trail,” Wedge grunted. “Someone who can warp…”

 

 


	12. 25/49

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

Prompto jerked out of his doze on Noct’s couch. Oh, yikes. How long had he been asleep?

 

He rolled over, grabbing Noct’s phone from the coffee table. Hopefully he hadn’t missed too much. He would have been happy to stay up all hours of the night and cover for him, but some people didn’t get out of school so easily as the _Prince of Lucis_.

 

…Oh, crap.

 

**Gladio:** Are you seriously still sleeping?

 

**Gladio:** Earlier your dad had to order you to leave.

 

**Gladio:** Noct, it’s been hours. Wake the hell up.

 

**Gladio:** Seriously.

 

**Gladio:** Your dad’s about ready to send me over there.

 

**Gladio:** If I don’t hear from you in five minutes I’m calling Prompto to get your ass out of bed before I get there.

 

Oh, crappity crap crap.

* * *

 

 

Noctis skidded to a stop just prior to warping to the next rooftop. A red flash of light? What was that? He jogged over to that side of the roof, squinting through the darkness.

 

What had he just seen? Unable to see anything else, he warped down to the ground, holding his breath as he stayed still for a moment.

 

Wait… were those… yeah, there _were_ voices. Barely audible above the thrumming of his pulse in his ears, but they were there. Raised voices.

 

Noctis sighed in frustration. Probably not Ignis and his kidnappers, then. Who would be dumb enough to be yelling when the whole city was after them? And… what were they doing in an office building at this time of night? Those didn’t even, like, have cash registers for people to rob.

 

“ _You’d have the Lucians and Imperial army after you. You’d have no sanctuary on this planet!_ ”

 

Noctis froze, his eyes picking up on movement behind the glass front of the building. Four figures – all of them dark except one. Three men. One woman.

 

Noctis shrank back into the shadows, hoping his dark clothes had kept him hidden. Could it really be? Could he have found them?

 

He waited patiently – far more patiently than it felt like he’d ever been in his entire life. They had to come out eventually.

 

* * *

 

 

“I don’t see nothin’…” Biggs muttered.

 

For a few moments, the only sound was Loqi tapping on his phone as the rest of them squinted out the doors. “Are you sure of what you saw?”

 

Aranea rolled her eyes. Of course Loqi was going to doubt everything her men said, even when they were genuine.

 

Wedge nodded. “It was only a reflection off the glass, but it was there.”

 

Loqi’s phone gave a buzz, and he frowned. “There are no Glaives in the area. Have you ever actually seen a warp trail before?”

 

Wedge scowled, but said nothing.

 

Loqi put his phone away. “We wait a few more minutes, then leave.”

 

And so they did. The minutes ticked by, but there didn’t seem to be any activity outside.

 

“…We leave,” Loqi said finally. His voice was tight and concerned. Good. The bastard could use some more stress. All the stress. Maybe he’d have a stroke.

 

Aranea knelt down, helping Ignis up. He rose eagerly for once, probably hoping to get outside fast on the chance that one of his people _was_ there.

 

They were brisk but cautious as they exited the building, and Aranea could see Ignis had his head on a swivel as he struggled to match her pace.

 

“Keep up!” Loqi hissed, his gun already in hand.

 

Aranea tightened her grip on her lance. What would she do if they were attacked by a real Glaive? Help take their life? Chip away further at that already cheap justification she had?

 

Ugh. This entire situation really did suck beyond words.

 

Loqi plowed on, leading them back into the narrow alleys between buildings. Great. At least now they weren’t out in the open, but this left them more exposed to an attack from the rooftops–

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp–_

Loqi whipped around and briefly took aim, firing a shot at the rooftop behind them. Judging by the bit-off yell of pain that echoed around them, he’d hit his mark.

 

“Highwind!” Loqi grabbed Ignis’ arm, gesturing for her to check the roof.

 

That was good. Great, actually. Maybe she could knock the Glaive out and tell Loqi she’d killed him.

 

* * *

 

 

Holy. Chocobos.

 

He’d done it. He’d actually found Ignis.

 

Noctis’ heart was beating so hard, he almost wondered if the Imperials would be able to hear it all the way down on the ground below him. He tiptoed across the roof he was on, phone gripped in his hand. He needed to call his dad, but he couldn’t let Ignis out of his sight, and he didn’t want to be heard. His thumb hovered over the button to connect the call.

 

Noctis looked ahead. Whichever way they turned, he’d have a pretty good view for a while. He could make the call–

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp–_

 

“ _Shit!_ ” Noctis hissed, jamming his thumb into the Decline option to silence Gladio’s call. Idiot, Noctis berated himself. He should have silenced the phone. Too late now.

 

Noctis called his father as soon as the option was back up. Maybe he could have just answered Gladio’s call, but it had been a reflex to shut the noise up.

 

His throat seized, cutting off his yell as pain ripped through his left arm, making him drop his phone.

 

Gunshot, he realized as he stared at the dark blood running over the pale skin of his arm. He’d… he’d been _shot_.

 

He gritted his teeth, falling to his knees and grabbing his phone.

 

“ _…Mr. Argentum? Are you there?_ ”

 

“Dad!” Noctis tried to steady his voice, but Six, his arm hurt like hell. “It’s me! Listen, you need to track Prompto’s phone, _now._ I found Ignis, and I know you’re gonna be pissed I went looking, but I need you to get the Glaive here.” He gritted his teeth, pulling in a shaky breath as he heard his dad barking orders. Astrals, _it hurt_ , _it hurt, it hurt._ “Dad… I’m hurt. I don’t know how bad, but–”

 

Noctis whirled around, backing up as a woman _landed_ on the roof next to him.  

 

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” She sounded irritated more than threatening, her lance loosely clasped at her side. “We’ve got the entire Glaive after us, and you manage to be the one that tracks us down?” She spun her lance into a ready position. “All right, kid, let’s make this quick.”

 

Noctis passed his phone to his aching left hand and summoned his sword. He’d seen enough TV. He knew his dad would be able to find him faster the longer the line stayed connected. If this lady managed to destroy the phone, his dad might not have enough to go on. He just needed to buy some time.

 

Noctis threw his sword past the woman, warping to another roof. The woman was right behind him, though, and he ducked under the dull side of her lance. How had she managed to catch up with him so quickly? Better yet, why was she using the dull side of her weapon?

 

She swiped again and he rolled. Astrals, it was so much harder to fight with only one arm. He barely had time to throw his sword back at the other roof, warping away from her next attack at the last second. His aim was off, though, and when he warped, he found himself clinging to his sword as he hung from the side of the other building.

 

He was a wide-open target, he realized, and he couldn’t hoist himself up with his injured arm. The woman jumped after him, and he dropped, barely getting another warp done in time to keep from spattering on the concrete below.

 

He appeared on the ground less gracefully than he cared to admit, facing the other four people there as quickly as he could in case someone tried to shoot him again.

 

For a moment, Noctis thought the real Imperial – Loqi, wasn’t it? – was going to try and put a bullet in his head, but then the gun lowered a notch.

 

“Well, well…” Loqi laughed heartily as the woman landed gracefully behind him, her expression one of clear unhappiness. Loqi, on the other hand, looked positively gleeful. “What _do_ we have here?”

Noctis let his gaze slide over to Ignis as Loqi was speaking, confident he wasn’t about to get shot right then. Even with the black eye, it was easy to see the absolute horror written on his friend’s pale face. Noctis swallowed. Stall. Okay. Okay, he could do this. Just like those speech lessons that he’d always hated. Confidence. Big words. …So, his best Ignis impression, minus the accent, really.

 

Noctis drew himself up slightly, staying in his fighting stance but hopefully making himself look less… like a seventeen-year-old with an agonizing bullet wound in his arm. “ _Loqi._ ” Steady. Steady voice. He had to push back the pain, or this guy would see him as weak right off the bat. “I’m Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum, and I’m here to see that my Advisor is returned.” Not that Loqi hadn’t already recognized him, but his name was a good opening.

 

“Noct, get out of here!” Ignis hissed.

 

“Quiet!” Loqi snapped, then arched an eyebrow at Noct. Well, he wasn’t laughing, so that was a good sign. “Your father sent you alone?”

 

He needed a haughty reply. Something that didn’t belittle him or his father. “My father encourages me to take initiative.”

 

“Ah. I see.” Loqi smirked. “Well, _Your Highness_ , I’m afraid we’ve grown rather attached to your Advisor. We can hardly part with him and walk out of here with what we need, now can we? In fact, without him, we wouldn’t be able to walk out of here at all – your Glaives would have no reason not to slaughter us.”

 

Good point. “I can promise you that won’t happen. Lives have already been lost on both sides – no one wants to add to that number. If you release Ignis now, you have my word that all of you will keep your lives. But if you try to keep going like this…” Noctis glanced down the alley behind him. “It’s still a long way to the edge of the city.” Noctis felt something besides pain flare within him at Ignis’ slight smile of pride.

 

“Well, now that depends on which route you take,” Loqi said snidely.

 

Noctis swallowed. Not that he’d expected Loqi to take his offer, but still. He was running out of stalling time. “The route that _I_ am trying to take is one that will militate this situation.”

 

Loqi squinted, looking confused. The woman mercenary raised an eyebrow. The other two shared a look that Noctis could only describe as ‘eh?’.

 

…Crap, what had he said?

 

Ignis’ sigh was barely audible. “Mitigate, Highness. The word you’re looking for is _mitigate._ ”

 

…Dammit.

 

“Right. That.”

 

He’d been doing so well. And now Ignis had that damn ‘my life’s work is all for naught’ look of disappointment.

 

Loqi laughed again. “I have a counter proposal for you, _Your Highness_.” He raised his gun again. “I’ll _mitigate_ the situation by taking you with us – I do doubt your father will take any rash actions against us while his _son’s_ life is on the line.”

 

…Oh, crap.

 

“Don’t you bloody dare!” Ignis snapped, a fury in his eyes that Noctis had never seen before.

 

“Oh, do keep him quiet,” Loqi tossed over his shoulder.

 

“No,” the white-shirted mercenary said, raising his gun to… point it at the Imperial. “To ’ell with you, mate. I’ve ’ad enough.”

 

“Agreed.” The dark-shirted mercenary released Ignis.

 

Loqi looked furious. “Highwind…”

 

The female mercenary shrugged, lazily leaning on her lance she had propped on the ground. “You heard the boys.” She looked to Noctis. “You want to make a deal, kid? You’ve got one.” 


	13. 25.2/49

To say the young Prince looked surprised at her words was an understatement. He definitely hadn’t expected them to actually take his deal. But enough was enough. Their lives might be in jeopardy, but there was only so much one could justify what they were doing until it wasn’t even worth it anymore. Keeping Ignis captive had been bad enough, but the Prince? He was what? Sixteen? Seventeen? And he clearly didn’t have Ignis’ resilience.

 

And as for Loqi… Aranea wasn’t fond of how he was taking the news. He looked pissed, that was for sure, but there was a lack of panic – even with Biggs holding a gun to his head. His own gun was still pointed at the Prince.

 

“Mr. Callux,” Loqi said, and Aranea knew for a fact that they’d never told him Biggs’ last name. Loqi was smirking as he glanced over his shoulder. “Your mother’s getting rather advanced in years, isn’t she? I doubt anyone would be terribly surprised were she to pass in the coming days.”

 

The blood drained from Biggs’ face.

 

How the hell had Loqi gotten information on Biggs’ family? And why was he just using it now? Unless… unless he saw that his other threats were starting not to work and used that damn phone of his to gather more dirt on them. She should have sent that phone to join its friend wherever Ignis had sent it.

 

“And Mr. Kincaid, it certainly would be a shame if something were to happen to that lovely blonde in the bar you frequent. Bartending can be such a hazardous occupation for a young woman.”

 

Dammit. How much did the Empire have on them? _She_ hadn’t even known Wedge was interested in someone. Then again, he was the most private of the three of them. Biggs probably knew something about it. But what really mattered was that the Empire knew.

 

Aranea tightened her grip on her lance, staring Loqi down. “What? Got nothing on me?” He couldn’t. There was nothing he could have on her. The only people she cared about were here.

 

Loqi was still smirking. “I don’t need it. So long as I have them, I have you.”

 

Damn him. She shouldn’t have let him realize that, but they were a unit. She’d never walk away with them trapped like this.

 

“You bloody monster.” Biggs slowly lowered his weapon, his expression one of pure guilt and misery. “I’m sorry, Ignis…”

 

Wedge followed suit, his jaw tense as he lowered his own weapon. No surprise. They could have taken a stranger off the road and it would have had the same effect. He wouldn’t let innocents die on his account. He, like Aranea and Biggs, had only gone along with this thus far out of care for them.

 

How had they become each other’s weakness? They were supposed to be a team that was stronger together.

 

The pure arrogance on Loqi’s face was a very tempting target for her fist. “Highwind, if you would be so kind as to retrieve the boy?”

 

Bastard. She’d tell him that, but it would only boost his ego by letting him know he got to her.

 

“His Majesty can send an escort to retrieve your loved ones,” Ignis piped up again finally. 

 

“In Niflheim?” Loqi snorted. “You’re losing this war, Lucian. You’d never get to them in time, even if you could find them, and your Glaive can’t even find _us_ in your own city.”

 

“Not… gonna be a problem for long,” the Prince said, and there was a small grin on his face. “Thanks for stalling for me. Gave my dad more than enough time to trace the call.” He held up a phone with his injured, shaking arm. Rivulets of his blood had run across the screen, but there was still very much a connected call showing.

 

The shot Loqi fired was so sudden, Aranea almost jumped. The Prince shifted, a blue ghost-image in his immediate wake as he barely phased through the bullet. A knife replaced the sword in his right hand, and Loqi hissed as the weapon connected with his own, sending his gun clattering to the ground.

 

If Ignis had been standing any closer to Biggs and not Loqi, he would have been fine, but as things were, he was in Loqi’s arm range, and Loqi yanked him into a hold, pressing his own knife to Ignis’ throat before any of them could do anything.

 

The Prince froze, another dagger in his hand that he’d been about to throw.

 

“Stand down, _Your Highness,_ ” Loqi snarled.

 

"Noct.” Ignis' tone was composed, yet tight as he looked at his Prince. "Get out of here." He flinched subtly as Loqi's knife pressed into his neck.

 

"Oh, I really think you should stay." Loqi yanked Ignis' head back by his hair, exposing his throat further. "That is, if you don't want your Glaives to find your young Advisor in a less than ideal condition."

 

The Prince didn't move an inch, and Aranea bent her knees slightly, ready to pounce if she needed to.

 

"Drop the dagger," Loqi ordered.

 

"If he gets you, he'll have no need of me anyway." Ignis' teeth were gritted as a thin trickle of blood spread from the knife pressing into his skin.

 

The kid's eyes were wide, flickering around wildly as if he could find another option. "If I come with you, I want your word that you won't hurt him."

 

" _Noct._ "

 

"My dad tells him more than me anyway, you don't want to lose that."

 

For the love… This was a disaster. This kid was playing with fire. Obviously trying to buy time, but at what cost? Things would only be worse if Loqi had two hostages, and that was without one of them being the Prince.

 

"Noct, for Astral's sake! My life isn't worth yours!"

 

The entire time they’d been dragging Ignis around, he’d never seemed this panicked, and Aranea knew it wasn’t the blade bringing out that side of him now.

 

"The hell it isn't!" the Prince snapped, and then his shoulders sagged. “My cooperation for his life – that’s my deal.”

 

“Noct, no!”

 

“It’s my choice, Iggy,” the Prince muttered softly.

 

“Deal.” Loqi pulled his knife away from Ignis’ throat, holding it at a fair distance.

 

The Prince gave him a nod and released his dagger, letting it dissolve into small particles of light before he tapped the red button on the screen of his phone and tossed it off to the side. Not that that mattered. The King would have their location already.

 

“Highwind.” Loqi shoved Ignis back at Biggs, who steadied him so he didn’t fall over. “Get the boy secured. Quickly! The Glaive will be here any moment.”

 

Aranea looked away from Ignis’ desperate expression. Great. She’d thought things had gone to hell _before_. The chances of any of them surviving this were dwindling rapidly. She wasn’t a parent herself, but somehow she didn’t think the King of Lucis was going to take too kindly to his son being shot and taken captive.

 

* * *

 

The air in the room was horrifically quiet.

 

Gladio was not an easy man to intimidate, but the look on his King’s face as the words _Call Ended_ flashed on the screen in his hand… That was darker than any he’d ever seen from the usually benevolent man.

 

Inwardly, Gladio was screaming at his own idiocy. Of course Noct hadn’t been asleep that long. How had he not seen through his and Prompto’s text antics? They were both horrible liars. Had he even talked on the phone to Prompto, he would have known instantly something was up. But apparently Noct was really good at sounding like his best friend when it came to texting. And now Noct was in the hands of the same maniacs as Ignis. If they reached the edge of the city… it wasn’t just them they’d lose. With the information they had… Game over. The war was lost. The line of Lucis would end.

 

Dammit, Noct. Why couldn’t he just listen for once? He had a Shield for a reason.

 

Gladio was brought back to the terrifying sight of his King’s current expression as the phone was set on the table. Gladio knew exactly what he was thinking about above all, and it wasn’t the war, or even Lucis itself.

 

“ _Dad… I’m hurt. I don’t know how bad, but–_ ”

 

Noct always complained about things hurting in training. He was a drama queen when it came to sparring injuries, but that… Six, what had happened to him?

 

There was a tremble of rage in the King’s voice as he spoke. “Every Glaive. Every Guard. Converged on that location. _Now._ Clarus, Gladio, come with me. We’re meeting them there.”

 

Gladio’s father wordlessly fell into step with his King as they headed down the hall.

 

It had been difficult to understand the full scope of the conversation since they couldn’t hear most of what was being said by the Imperial, but the result had been clear – Noct had traded himself to buy time for Ignis and get the Glaive closer.

 

Gladio clenched his fists as he followed his father and his King to the elevator. That bastard was going to regret ever getting near them. And then he was going to kill Noct and Prompto both for this crap.

 

…Dammit, he couldn’t even think of that as a joke right now. He just wanted Noct and Ignis back safe.

 

* * *

 

“Move faster!” Loqi hissed, gesturing wildly with his arm before looking at his phone again. Looked like he was getting more frantic by the minute.

 

Noctis almost grinned, but a sudden flare from his arm made him bite his lip to stifle a whimper instead. It was still bleeding. The only effort that had been made to tend to his wound was the small tourniquet the lady mercenary had tied around his upper bicep, and while he was glad he had that, it wasn’t helping him walk straighter. 

 

Noctis really regretted the noise making its way out of him, because Ignis honed in on it like a wild animal spotting prey. Only… with a lot more concern.

 

“I’m fine,” Noctis muttered. Yeah… Ignis was so not buying that.

 

There was a gentle squeeze on his good shoulder from the lady mercenary, who had been the one shoving him along. “Hang in there, kid.”

 

Noctis would have scowled at being called a kid, but he didn’t really want to anger the woman since she’d at least been nice enough to help him with his arm and tied his hands in the frond instead of the back like Ignis had his. It was good to know that if he fell, it wouldn’t be totally flat on his face.

 

…He was so going to fall at this pace.

 

“Hurry up!” Loqi snapped again, sharply turning a corner into another ally. “This way!”

 

Noctis and Ignis both staggered at the sudden change of direction, but thankfully their guards helped them stay upright.

 

“Kincaid!” Loqi beckoned him over as he tried to lift… a sewer cover. Seriously? Like this wasn’t bad enough.

 

The white-shirted mercenary that was hanging on to Ignis groaned. “Not again…”

 

Oh. Was this how they’d managed to get so far? Yeah, okay, he was going to have his dad do something about securing the sewers when this was over.

 

When this was over. Noctis swallowed. Every other miserable thing in his life – school, his part-time job, the endless lectures – he’d always had the consolation that it would be over soon and he’d get to go back to his apartment and chill with Prompto or something.

 

He had no guarantee that he’d be going home this time. Absolutely everything about this plan could go wrong. Hell, it was barely even a plan. It was a spur of the moment _keep Ignis alive_ decision.

 

“I’m afraid our options are limited,” Loqi hissed back. “Now shut up and help if you want your mother to live.”

 

Geez. He couldn’t even be mad at these mercenaries. This Imperial was a manipulative asshole.


	14. 26/49

Ignis sucked in a fresh breath of air as they moved away from the hole in the ground.

 

Thankfully, their walk through the sewers was a brief one this time. No stops or treading through any actual water, and the smell didn’t cling to them like before. Ignis’ greatest worry was more that Noct had gone through such an unseemly environment with an open wound. He wished he could get one of the mercenaries to bandage the injury, but he knew his sway with them was fading. Not that he could blame them. What man would choice someone they’d known for a day over their own loved ones?

 

Even with all his worry for Noct, though, he found it interesting that Loqi hadn’t seemed able to threaten Aranea about anyone she personally cared for. Did she truly have no one for the Empire to use against her? If that was the case, then her going along with the kidnapping before despite her obvious distaste for it made much more sense. Biggs and Wedge might be the only friends she had, and as their leader, she likely felt an obligation to keep them out of harm’s way, even if she personally was willing to take her chances against the Empire.

 

Ignis was shaken from his thoughts as Biggs softly nudged him to move a little faster. Ignis couldn’t help feeling pity for the man. He might be good at his job, but he didn’t have the heart of a true mercenary. Ignis wondered how different his life might have been had he been raised in a Lucian territory rather than Imperial. He might have made a good Glaive.

 

Never mind all that. Ignis’ eyes darted over to Noct. Noct may have improved their chances of rescue by sending the King their location, but Ignis wasn’t content to sit back and assume that would happen. His Prince’s – his friend’s – life was on the line because he’d been trying to save _him_. It wasn’t Noct’s job to protect him. It was very much the other way around, and he needed to do his duty.

 

Whatever it took.

 

Loqi took another sudden turn, leading them across a street that was unfortunately dead at this time of night. Or perhaps not so unfortunately. They didn’t need more civilian blood on their hands.

 

They weren’t out in the open for long, though, as Loqi fumbled and flashed a key card to get into an apartment building before leading them to a specific room he had another key for. So, not another break in, but a planned hideout this time.

 

They must have been getting very close to the Wall, then.

 

“In!” Loqi shooed them all, locking the door after he entered last.

 

Ignis instantly took in the apartment, hoping there was some medical supplies. Sparse furniture, a small, barren-looking kitchen… perhaps there was something in the cabinet.

 

“You two.” Loqi grabbed Ignis by the collar of his shirt and dragged him over to a bare corner of the room. “Sit against this wall where I can see you.” He moved back over to Noct and pulled him from Aranea’s hold, shoving him towards the same place as Ignis.

 

Noct scowled, but sunk down against the wall with a grimace. Ignis followed suit, with a bit more difficulty since his hands were still tied behind him.

 

Loqi dragged one of the few chairs over to the window that faced the street, much like he had in the last apartment. It would have been almost deja vu, but Noct’s presence made the feeling lessen.

 

“Kincaid, Highwind, take a nap,” Loqi ordered. “Callux, keep an eye on them. A better one than you did at the mall, if you’d be so kind.”

 

Biggs scowled, but moved over to take a seat against the wall a fair distance from them.

 

Aranea glared daggers at Loqi’s back before looking to Biggs. “Wake us if you need anything.”

 

Biggs nodded softly, then ran a hand through his hair, looking miserable. The room grew rather quiet as Aranea and Wedge settled down in their own parts of the room to sleep.

 

Noct dropped his head back against the wall with a soft thump, a grimace on his face as he bit his lip.

 

“Your arm?” Ignis inquired. Bullet wounds were no small injury, even when not to the most vital of places.

 

Noct nodded, his eyes closed and voice shaky. “Seems worse than earlier…”

 

“Likely due to your adrenaline levels.” Ignis tilted his head, squinting at the wound. “You really need that properly bandaged.”

 

Biggs shoved to his feet. “Right, sorry. Should have already been on that.”

 

“Bathroom drawer,” Loqi supplied, glancing over his shoulder at them, sneering. “Apologies, _Highness,_ I’d offer you a potion, but I’m afraid your man took our last one with his frivolous suicide attempt.”

 

…Damn him. Noct did not need to know about that.

 

Noct’s head shot off the wall, and he stared at Ignis in horror. “Ignis… you…”

 

Ignis evaded his gaze. This was not something he ever planned on explaining. He’d assumed the King would have done that after Ignis was already gone and they’d found his body. The King would understand. So would the Glaive, and Clarus and Gladio… but Noct wasn’t them. At times, he seemed to still have problems with seeing the bigger picture.

 

“We were still looking for you – what the hell were you thinking?”

 

Ignis recognized that tone. It wasn’t one Noct used often with him. Last time had been that particularly difficult period around when the King had first started using his cane. “I did what I deemed necessary for the situation. I had no guarantee that the Glaive would find me before we reached the edge of the city.”

 

“ _Necessary?_ No. Okay? No. You killing yourself is never going to be a necessary thing. That shouldn’t be an option at all! No amount of information is worth your life.”

 

Oh, Noct. Sometimes he could be so naive. “The information itself is of no consequence. It’s what the Empire possessing it could lead to.”

 

“It’s still not worth dying over.”

 

“Your safety _is!_ ” Ignis looked at him sharply on that, and Noct’s mouth snapped shut.

 

“Specs…”

 

Ignis shook his head. “You’re my Prince and friend, Noct. I swore an oath to stand by your side and keep you safe, whatever it takes. I _will_ protect you.”

 

Noct seemed stunned for a moment, but then irritated. “Well… I don’t want you to!”

 

“Too bad, then. I made that oath to you and your father. Take it up with him.”

 

“I will!”

 

“Don’t you dare.” Ignis glared at him.

 

Noct made a gesture that Ignis assumed was of frustration, but it was hard to tell with his hands tied. “You shouldn’t have to go through this shit just for me!”

 

“Language, Noct.”

 

“…Are you serious right now? You almost killed yourself recently, and you’re lecturing me about _language?_ ”

 

“Yes, I am. As you well know, I take my duties seriously, and I take pride in them. This was not a burden forced upon me. I knew what it entailed.”

 

Noctis hit him with a flat look. “Ignis, you were _six!_ ”

 

Ignis raised an eyebrow. “And you were born the Prince – what matter does age have?”

 

Noct gritted his teeth. “For the… Okay, can someone untie me please? I’m gonna kill him myself.”

 

“How about I gag you both instead?” Loqi barked. “By the Astrals, I’ve heard less noise on a battlefield!”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, are we bothering you?” Noct said less than innocently.

 

Loqi rounded on him, glaring from across the room. “I swear, another word, and I _will_ have Callux gag you.”

 

Biggs scoffed, finally back from the other room with the supplies he’d gone searching for. “Bite me, Loqi. Just because I’ve gotta go along with this twisted plot doesn’t mean I’ve gotta make you comfortable. I’ve got a bullet wound to treat.”

 

“ _Highwind,_ ” Loqi growled.

 

Aranea flipped him off without opening her eyes. “I’m sleeping, deal with it yourself.”

 

“…Is it bad that I kinda like these guys?” Noctis muttered.

 

“Definitely,” Ignis said. “But I find them rather endearing as well, Astrals help me.”

 

“Oh, cool. We successfully Stockholmed you.” Aranea _still_ didn’t even open her eyes.

 

Noctis snorted. “She been like this the whole time?”

 

Had she? Well… yes, honestly. “Most of it.”

 

“Well… I guess there are worse kidnappers.” Noctis grimaced again as Biggs knelt down and took his arm.

 

“Indeed.” Ignis tossed Loqi a look.

 

After a few more seconds of observation, Biggs swore, standing to take his belt off.

 

“What?” Noct frowned. “What are you doing?”

 

Biggs hesitated. “Givin’ you somethin’ to bite down on… The bullet’s still in your arm.”

 

…Oh bloody hell.

 

Aranea shot up and crossed the room so quickly Ignis almost could have believed that she’d warped. “Let me see.”

 

“I can ’andle it, Lady A,” Biggs said, but gave her the belt anyway.

 

“I know you can, but I have smaller hands.” Aranea knelt down. “You got tweezers there?”

 

Biggs handed the tweezers over.

 

Noct looked even paler than usual.

 

Aranea held the tweezers up for him to see. “Not gonna lie, this is gonna hurt like hell.”

 

“It already hurts like hell,” Noct grumbled, swallowing.

 

“Well, it’s gonna hurt worse.” With that, she offered him the belt, which he slowly leaned forwards and bit down on.

 

Biggs offered his hand, clasping one of Noct’s tied ones. “You can squeeze as ’ard as you need.”

 

“Just try to hold still,” Aranea added.

 

Ignis flinched, looking away when Noct’s screaming started. Damn it all. He was supposed to protect him, and he couldn’t do anything while Noct was trying not to writhe in agony right next to him. The sound made Ignis want to throw up, and suddenly all he could see was the small boy he’d been introduced to when he himself was only six. All he could see was the sad, broken child that had returned from Tenebrae.

 

“Got it!”

 

Ignis looked back in time to see Aranea pulling away, letting Biggs take her place. Biggs immediately started cleaning and bandaging the wound as Noct’s screams died down to smaller whimpers. His head fell onto Ignis’ shoulder, his eyes scrunched shut and damp around the lashes. It made it somewhat awkward for Biggs to keep working on his arm, but Biggs didn’t say anything.

 

“There you are, mate. You’ll be all right.” Biggs gave Noct’s shoulder a gentle pat. “You’ll be all right.”

 

Ignis met his gaze, giving him a nod of thanks. Biggs gave him what looked like a guilty smile in return as he pulled his belt gently from Noct’s teeth. Noct curled closer to Ignis’ side. Six, the last time Noct had done anything like this was many years back, once again right after his return from Tenebrae. The boy had been plagued with nightmares for so long after that trip, usually after it had been a few days since Lady Lunafreya’s latest reply, or when Noct was expecting one that hadn’t yet arrived.

 

Noct was so quiet those days. They’d never ever truly spoken about it, and eventually Noct returned to a… less silent version of himself, though he’d never really been the same again. Never as bright and cheerful as the boy who left to catch fireflies with his nanny.

 

How would the events affect Noct now, were they to both live through this? Ignis would be there for him no matter what, but he hoped he’d never see that particularly sullen side of his friend again.

Never again. Things were different this time. He was a child himself and not even present when the attack happened before. Now, he was an adult and very much present.

 

Loqi would not harm Noctis further, Ignis swore to himself as Noct’s breaths evened out against his arm. He wouldn’t let that happen, no matter the price.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is AAAAAAAAARTTTTTTTT for [when Noct was having the bullet removed from his arm.](http://winterbugsy.tumblr.com/post/176357487384/this-is-old-and-so-sketchy-and-i-need-to-clean)


	15. 32/49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… I played Episode Ignis. *curls up in blanket and cries while keeping spoilers to self*

 

This was absurd, Nyx thought as he kept running, his calves and feet screaming at him after so many hours on duty. One Imperial and three mercenaries shouldn’t have been able to evade the Glaive this easily in Insomnia. Their intel was good. Too good. They’d definitely gotten some inside help. They couldn’t have been running blind all this time and avoided every Glaive and Guard in the city. The odds were astronomical. The Prince had managed to get them an exact location, and they’d locked down the area. They had to be here somewhere.

 

“ _Ow! Shit!_ ” Pelna’s voice crackled through the comm.

 

The voice that followed wasn’t as familiar, but Nyx still recognized it. “ _Report, Glaive._ ” The Marshal, Cor Leonis. It was weird having the Crownsguard on the same line as them. So many extra voices.

 

“ _It’s nothing,_ ” Pelna grumbled, sounding embarrassed. “ _Hit my toe on a sewer cover._ ”

 

Nyx rolled his eyes.

 

Wait…

 

He tapped his earpiece. “Repeat, Plena – did you say the sewers?”

 

“ _…Yeah?_ ”

 

“Anyone happen to know where that entry could lead?”

 

There was a pause.

 

“ _Checking,_ ” a Crownsguard woman said – Monica, wasn’t it?

 

“ _Khara, check that sewer entry. Even if doesn’t lead anywhere, they could be using it to hide,_ ” the Marshal ordered.

 

“ _Yes, sir._ ”

 

How the hell could they know where the sewers led? Insomnia was supposed to be secure. Oh, they definitely had help. Help from someone with a lot of info. Not only were they avoiding the Glaive and Guard way too well, but they’d known exactly when and where to strike to get Scientia in the first place. If Scientia hadn’t happened to have been on the phone with the Amicitias, no one would have even noticed he was gone until too late.

 

But who with that kind of information would be willing to betray Lucis like that?

 

——————————————————————————————————————————

 

“Up.”

 

Ignis was jarred awake by a kick to his leg. His neck was cramped uncomfortably in a way that told him he’d been asleep for some while.

 

Noctis groaned softly, his head slowly pulling away from Ignis’ shoulder.

 

“Everyone up!” Loqi raised his voice, waking Aranea and Wedge as well.

 

“Wha’ time is it? Noct slurred, eyes still half closed and a grimace still on his face.

 

“I’m not certain.” Ignis glanced down. “How’s your arm?”

 

“Still hurts. Not as bad, though.”

 

Biggs helped Noct to his feet first before then helping Ignis. “You kids doing all right?”

 

“Not a child.”

 

“I’m not a kid.”

 

Biggs’ lips twitched up on one side. “Right.”

 

Wedge edged closer to them as they were shooed towards the door, offering Noctis something that was wrapped up in napkins. “’Ere. You’ve gotta be ’ungry.”

 

“Oh.” Noct took the bundle awkwardly in his tied hands. “Thanks, I guess…”

 

Noct pulled apart the napkin to reveal a pastry. Ah. Wedge must have saved that from yesterday. Noct started wolfing it down immediately, already halfway done by the time Loqi started to unlock the door. He held the pastry up to Ignis then. “You should–”

 

“No, thank you.” Ignis willed his stomach to not growl at the sight of the food. Noct needed to keep his strength up.

 

“You sure?”

 

“Quite.” What he truly needed was an Ebony.

 

Aranea chuckled, walking over to stand next to them. “Pity we don’t have anything for you to fix us breakfast with, huh, Ignis? Iggy? Specs? How many nicknames you got anyway?”

 

“As many as he deems necessary to give me.”

 

“Ah.” She nodded. “Got a preference to which one you’d like to be called?”

 

Ignis gave a slight shake of his head. “Call me what you will.”

 

She prodded his spectacles, pushing them back up into their proper place. “Specs it is, then.”

 

Then she shoved a granola bar in his mouth. “Don’t try to argue, I know how long it’s been since you’ve eaten.” With that, she joined Loqi at the door, leaving Ignis stuck with the granola bar in his mouth since his hands were still tied behind him.

 

Noctis spluttered out a laugh around his bite of pastry. “Yeah… I like her.”

 

Ignis scowled, unable to say anything.

 

“…Do you want some help with that?”

 

As though he really had a choice. He reluctantly gave a nod, lowering his head so Noct wouldn’t have to hurt his arm by reaching higher.

 

Loqi finally opened the door, making Biggs and Wedge usher Ignis and Noctis forwards. Ignis chewed on his granola bar as he walked. All right, yes, he was hungry. It had been quite a while since their lunch before. Not to mention… blood loss took its toll on the body.

 

Judging by the level of lighting, Ignis placed the time at early morning. The sun was just coming up, and given the winter darkness, Ignis imagined it was around six. If the plan was still the same, Loqi would try to be out of the city before the darkness faded fully.

 

They were closer to the outskirts of the city than he thought.

 

Loqi sent off a text, a grin on his face. “The diversion is set.”

 

“So… we’re leavin’ the city, then…” Biggs muttered, sounding very much like he didn’t want to leave the city. Not terribly shocking.

 

“Oh, any moment now…” Loqi sneered.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————

 

“ _Khara? Repeat – Khara, please respond,_ ” the Marshal tried again.

 

“ _Sewers are likely blocking his signal, Marshal,_ ” Monica said. “ _We’ll have to wait until he’s back above ground._ ”

 

Nyx swore under his breath. They were way too close to the edge of the Wall. This was their last chance. Any further and they’d probably be gone for good.

 

Nyx swiveled around on his heel. “Where’s the nearest exit for that sewer route? I’m heading over to check it out.”

 

“ _Negative, Nyx_ , _”_ Drautos cut in. “ _Stay in your area. Any hole in our search net could let them slip through_.”

 

“ _With respect, Captain, our search net hasn’t yielded any results thus far,”_ Crowe said. _“Is it possible our comms are compromised?_ ”

 

“ _Negative. Comms are secure,_ ” Monica said.

 

“ _Well, they’ve gotta be getting info on us somehow–_ ”

 

Nyx whipped around again as a gunshot split the quiet morning air. Whose area had that been?

 

“ _Hostile located!_ ” Luche reported. “ _Repeat – I’ve located the Imperial! No sign of the others yet, but they’ve got to be around!_ ”

 

“ _All units, converge on that area!_ ” Drautos ordered.

 

Nyx broke into a sprint immediately, heading in that direction.

 

“ _…gative! Luche… a decoy… in sight! Backup… engage?_ ”

 

Nyx stopped running as quickly as he started. “Pelna, you’re not coming through clear. What was that?”

 

“ _I said Luche must have a decoy!_ ” Pelna hissed. “ _I’ve got the Imperial here, along with the mercenaries and Scientia and the Prince!_ ”

 

Again, Nyx turned on his heel and started to run. “You’re positive?”

 

“ _Yes! Absolutely!_ ”

 

“Hang tight, Pelna.” Nyx warped down the alleyway. “I’ll be there soon.”

 

“ _No time! They’re almost out of the city. Do I engage?_ ”

 

“ _Yes,_ ” the King’s voice broke through, silencing all the others. “ _Glaive, you are free to engage. And I want that decoy caught as well._ ”

 

“ _Understood, Your Majesty._ ”

——————————————————————————————————————————

 

The exit to Insomnia was in sight. Unguarded.

 

Damn Drautos. He had far too much influence.

 

Ignis’ chest was tight with panic. He was out of time. There had to be a way out of this. There had to be something he could do to keep them from passing the point of no return, but he only had a few turns and alleys left to think of something.

 

“Go, go!” Loqi gestured harshly, forcing Biggs and Wedge to pull Ignis and Noct into a brisk jog. Noct was still lagging, though, leaving him and Wedge in the back of their party.

 

Aranea matched Biggs’ and Ignis’ pace, letting Loqi pull ahead. “Stay close. We may still have a chance.”

 

Well, Ignis very much doubted that, but at least she was willing to help in what way she thought she could.

 

“ _Company–_ ”

 

Wedge’s warning came too late, and he released Noct, crumpling to the ground with a scream as a dagger nailed him in his shoulder. A Glaive appeared on top of him, hand pulling back to finish the job when Aranea’s lance flashed into her hand.

 

“Wedge!” Aranea whipped her lance around, making the Glaive jump back to avoid being hit. He then jumped forwards again, clean over Wedge’s form to lock blades with Aranea again. Noctis staggered away from the swinging blade, only for Loqi to rush over and grab his arm instead, a gun in his other hand.

 

“This way!” Loqi yanked on Noct’s injured arm, pulling him down a side alleyway.

 

Ignis followed without Biggs even having to nudge him. If Noct was headed that way, so was he. The Prince wasn’t getting out of his sight.

 

Aranea shoved the Glaive back again, and Loqi used the opportunity to open fire, landing a bullet in the Glaive’s leg as he fired off several wide shots. The Glaive fell to one knee, still keeping his weapon raised as Aranea closed in on him–

 

And then another Glaive appeared between them, cutting Aranea off from the first Glaive and Wedge.

 

“Highwind! With us! _Now!_ ”

 

Aranea hesitated, gaze going to Wedge, but then she backed up and started running to meet them as the Glaive checked on his comrade.

 

Ignis released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

 

A new situation.

 

They were running _away_ from the Wall. The Glaive that had found them was only injured. Wedge was only injured. Prisoner or not, he’d still be treated, which was likely why Aranea had actually left him behind – she knew they couldn’t get him the help he needed.

 

They’d been found. Actually, officially spotted by the Glaive. The others would be there soon. But what would that mean in the long run? Drautos and Luche were still problems. What might they try to do _now?_

——————————————————————————————————————————

 

Nyx quickly crouched down by his friend. “Pelna, you hit?”

 

Pelna wave him off. “I’ll be fine – catch the bastards! I’ll look after this guy. Just watch out for that mercenary woman! One hell of a lance wielder!”

 

Nyx had his dagger ready as he looked over, but the mercenary wasn’t moving much. He and Pelna both needed help. Nyx tapped his earpiece as he shot back to his feet and started running again. “Medical team needed in the area – one injured Glaive and hostile. I’m continuing pursuit of the remaining targets.”

 

“ _Acknowledged, Ulric,_ ” the Marshal said. “ _We’re en route to you.”_

 

“ _I’m almost there, Nyx,_ ” Crowe said.

 

Nyx caught sight of the mercenary in a white shirt darting around the corner up ahead, and he picked up his pace. The corner turned into the street.

 

Were they insane, heading into the open? No, not insane, just running blind and desperately. Screams echoed from the street, and Nyx’s line of sight opened up in time to see two civilians running from a restaurant.

 

The younger woman civilian spotted Nyx and ran over to him, babbling about a man with a gun chasing them out of their diner.

 

“Go home,” Nyx told her, running for the building again.

 

A bullet hit the pavement just before his feet, and he reflexively jumped back, then rolled to the side to take cover behind a thick lamppost.

 

“Stay where you are!”

 

It was easy to see the Imperial. Nowhere for him to hide with the restaurant having a glass front. He had a gun pointed straight at Nyx while the remaining two mercenaries were hanging back with their captives.

 

“Yeah? You think I should? How many bullets you got there, Tummelt?” Nyx squinted. He could probably cross the street with one warp. That wouldn’t give Loqi a lot of time to aim at him. “I’m willing to bet I’ve got better odds than you here.”

 

“What I have is the need for only _one_ hostage, and I can assure you I have more than enough bullets for that!”

 

“You harm either of them and you’ll never set foot outside that shop alive!” Nyx warned, not that he thought he could reason with the man, but self-preservation was a pretty strong motive.

 

Loqi was silent for a moment. “You tell your superiors to keep a distance! If I see any Glaive getting too close, your King’s bloodline comes to an end!”

 

With that, the Imperial sank into the depths of the restaurant.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *muffled sobbing continues*


	16. 33/49

“I don’t believe it…” Noct muttered, looking around the restaurant they’d been shoved into. They were both currently seated against the wall beneath the ordering window for the kitchen.

 

Ignis pulled his attention from where it had been lingering on one very stressed Imperial, who was watching the entire force of the Glaive and Guard gather outside. “What?”

 

Noct gestured to the restaurant’s eating area. “Recognize this place?”

 

Ignis took a closer look at the area. He did recognize this place, but the memory wasn’t a strong one. His memory felt as though he’d seen the area from a different viewpoint. A more distant one. A view from outside, perhaps. Yes, that was it. He had been here before. Many times, but he’d always dropped Noct off.

 

“Isn’t this the restaurant where you work your part-time job?”

 

“Yeah.” Noct nodded. “What are the chances?”

 

“Very slim.” Ignis lowered his voice. “But I’ll take any advantage we can get.”

 

“Think maybe he’ll let us play in the arcade upstairs?”

 

Ignis snorted. “Consider me doubtful.” He frowned then, giving Noct a withering look. “There’s an arcade upstairs?”

 

“…Yeah?”

 

“And would that arcade be the reason you chose to apply here when your father told you to get a job?”

 

“…No?”

 

Ignis sighed. No wonder Noct hadn’t complained more about having to get that job.

 

“Oh, come on, Specs!” Noct looked a bit insulted. “It’s not like I got to go up there while I was working – Prompto and I just hung out after or before my shifts sometimes.”

 

“Never mind that.” Ignis lowered his voice to a true whisper. “Is there anything we might use against Loqi?”

 

Noct hesitated, then shook his head. “Not that I can think of.”

 

Unfortunate, but not surprising. Ignis regarded Loqi warily. He was cornered. Cornered meant desperate. There was no telling what Loqi might do now. And as for Biggs and Aranea… well, tension was certain to be high with Wedge in Lucian custody. Aranea wanted to keep her men safe, so she might be more than willing to cooperate with the Glaive, but… Biggs still had his mother to worry about. The options did not look good for the mercenaries.

* * *

 

 

Gladio forced himself to slow his steps as he walked alongside his father and the King even though he wanted nothing more than to rush ahead and break into that restaurant Noct and Ignis were in. Not that he could do anything better than the Marshal, who was already there and barking orders to the Glaives and Guards. Captain Drautos was there too, but Cor was definitely the one in command. Gladio guessed being in the Crownsguard since he was thirteen gave Cor a certain type of automatic authority.

 

Cor spotted them, giving another Glaive an order before standing straight and waiting for the King to get to him.

 

“Cor, what’s the situation?” The King didn’t stop when he got to him, stepping forwards to the edge of the area the Glaive had cornered off.

 

“The Imperial and two of the mercenaries are holed up inside with Scientia and the Prince.” Cor stood beside the King, his arms folded behind his back. “The other mercenary is in our custody at the moment, receiving medical care along with our injured Glaive. They’ll both live. The Glaive should be back in the field soon. Last I checked, they’d rushed him into surgery to remove the bullet so they can give him a potion.”

 

“Has the Imperial made any demands?” The King was squinting at the Seventh Heaven’s front glass walls, probably trying to see if he could make out anything on the inside.

 

Why did he feel like he knew that name?

 

Cor shook his head. “Nothing yet. Only demanded that we keep a distance. Him having two hostages complicates matters.”

 

“I’m well aware,” the King said gravely. “What do we know about the building?”

 

Cor scowled. “Less than we’d like. It appears to have gone through some renovation lately.”

 

Gladio almost slapped his own forehead, remembering now how Noct had been thrilled to hang out with Prompto in his extra free time while the place where he worked was getting fixed up, but both of them had also been bummed about the arcade also being closed since it was upstairs. He _knew_ he’d recognized the name of the restaurant, but he’d never been here himself. He flicked his gaze up to the sign that sat above the Seventh Heaven’s name. Yeah, there it was – the Anak Arcade. Noct was supposed to be back to work tomorrow, if he remembered correctly.

 

Wait. They needed someone who knew the layout.

 

“Prompto!” Gladio near shouted.

The King’s, Cor’s, and his dad’s eyes all turned on him.

 

“What about him?” Cor asked, an edge to his tone.

 

“He’ll know the layout like the back of his hand.” Gladio gestured to the arcade’s sign. “Noct works here – they hang out upstairs all the time on the days he has to come in.”

Cor snapped his fingers, pointing to the nearest Glaive, which happened to be Ulric again. “Prompto Argentum – get him here. I’ve given you the address.”

 

Ulric was about to run off, but then he stopped. “Is Pelna healed up yet? He might be closer since we’re on the edge of the city.”

 

“Find out,” the King ordered Cor.  

* * *

 

 

Prompto sighed as he jogged up the street to his house again. Man, this was a sucky morning. Firstly, he’d been dropped back off at his house last night with no word on what was going on with Ignis, and Noct still hadn’t texted him since. Granted, there was nooooo way Noct would be up this early and he’d proooobably spent the night getting chewed out by his dad, but still. Prompto kinda wanted to know what was going on. And his own phone back would be nice too. He still had Noct’s.

 

Oh yeah, and he’d been up forever, not able to sleep much last night. _And_ he couldn’t even find it in himself to really run this morning. It had turned out as more of a short plod. And then upping the _ugh_ factor again was that he still had to get ready and go to school.

 

He slowed his pace to a walk, reaching for the handle on his door–

 

The door flew open without him touching it. “I don’t know where the kid is, but he’s not at his house–”

 

Prompto fell back with a shriek, ending up on the ground as a man shoved out of _his_ house.

 

Oh crap. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, they’d come to kidnap him too– oh. It was a Glaive.

 

The Glaive blinked down at him. “Prompto Argentum?”

 

“Uh. Yeaaah?” Prompto said slowly.

 

The Glaive looked up, holding a hand to his ear. “Never mind, Marshal. I’ve got him. On our way.”

 

“Uh. Way where? What?” Why was there a Glaive in his _house?_

 

The Glaive offered him a hand. “Hey, kid, I’m Pelna. King sent me to get you.”

 

“ _Me?_ ” he squeaked, accepting the hand and being pulled to his feet with what felt like no effort from the guy.  

 

Pelna chuckled. “Yeah, you. You might be able to help us save the Prince.”

 

Prompto felt the blood drain from his face. “N-Noct? What happened to Noct? I thought _Ignis_ was in trouble?”

 

“Car.” Pelna pointed and started walking. “He is. They’re _both_ in trouble at the moment.”

 

…Oh, no. _Oh, no, no, no…_ Why had he thought helping Noct was a good idea last night? He’d pretty much helped Noct get himself into whatever his situation was, but somehow the King needed his help?

 

Oh, man. What could he do to help?

 

…And did he have to meet the King while he was in his jogging clothes?

 

* * *

 

 

Loqi was still frantically tapping away on his phone. “Callux! Go upstairs and watch the widows of the second level in case they try to sneak in that way.”

 

Biggs sighed, heading for the stairs wordlessly.

 

Aranea remained leaning against a wall with her arms crossed. “So… got any bright ideas to get us out of this one, Loqi?”

 

“Shut up, Highwind!” Loqi snarled.

 

“It was a genuine question, asshole,” she shot back. “I don’t see us having a lot of options here. Yeah, we can _try_ to stay here and threaten to kill one of these guys until next Sunday, but we’ve only got so much food, and I’m pretty sure the King will make a move before then.”

 

“Actually, food shouldn’t pose a problem for once,” Ignis said pleasantly. “The kitchen should be well stocked, considering they were preparing to open–”

 

“ _Shut up!_ ” Loqi roared.

 

For once, Ignis obeyed. The last thing he wanted was Loqi getting pissed with him and taking it out on Noct.

 

Noct, who was shallowly breathing with his head resting against the wall.

 

“Noct?” Ignis nudged him with his shoulder.

 

“’M fine,” the Prince grumbled faintly.

 

Ignis frowned. Noct truly could sleep during anything, but Ignis doubted that’s what this was. His face was too tight. Not restful at all. His wound had to still be hurting.

 

“We need to strike a bargain,” Aranea pushed.

 

“We’ll do no such thing!”

 

“Do you see a magical way out of here that I don’t?”

 

“I’m working on it!”

 

Oh, really… How did Loqi possibly expect to get out of this? Even with his help in the Glaive, there were too many loyal members out there for him to get past. His mission was over. The only thing that remained to be determined was how many people would die before the end.

 

Loqi and Aranea continued bickering until the restaurant phone rang, interrupting them. They shared a glance, and then Loqi stalked over to it, picking up the phone which happened to be on the side where Ignis and Noct were sitting.

 

Aranea drew closer too.

 

“Yes?” Loqi said.

 

“ _Tummelt. I believe it’s high past time you and I spoke._ ”

 

Noct’s head jerked upon hearing his father’s voice.

 

“Well, well… Your Majesty.” Loqi clicked his tongue. “So, you’ve graced me with direct contact. I’m flattered. To what do I owe the pleasure? Ah, wait, yes, I suppose you want your brat back.”

 

“Hey!” Noct protested. “I have not been that bad!”

 

“ _Noct,_ ” Ignis hissed.  

 

For once, Loqi seemed to ignore them.

 

“ _Yes, it’s relatively simple what I want._ ”

 

“Good. Then you’ll take heed of my warning to your man and keep your people back. I have my true target. Your son is merely a pleasant bonus – one I can do without if needed.” Loqi glared at Noct. “I’d probably get a promotion for ending your bloodline, too.”

 

“ _A promotion will do you little good if you aren’t alive to obtain it, and I do guarantee you won’t make it out of that building alive if either of those boys are harmed._ ”

 

“And _they_ won’t make it out alive should you try anything.”

 

Aranea groaned. “And now we’re going in circles. Great. This will get things solved…”

 

* * *

 

 

Prompto’s leg bobbed up and down as Pelna let the car slow to a stop in the middle of the Kingsglaive/Crownsguard-swarmed street. Prompto unbuckled his seatbelt, flying out of the car door before Pelna had even shifted the car into park. Pelna yelled after him, but all Prompto could hear was Ignis’ imaginary scolding.

 

“Gladio!” Prompto called, having spotted the Shield next to his dad in the crowd. Oh. The King was there too. On the phone. He bit his lip, walking over silently. Pelna caught up beside him and walked with him. Well, he at least felt less nervous with that dude at his side. He seemed nice so far. Sure as heck not as intimidating as the freaking _Immortal_ and _King_.

 

The King pulled the phone away from his ear, looking at it in what Prompto would say was bemusement, except more serious. “I do believe he hung up on me.”

 

Gladio happened to look up in Prompto’s direction right then. “Prompto! You’re here – good.”

 

“Er, yeah, heya. What’s going on? Are Noct and Iggy okay?”

 

“For the moment, they’re relatively unharmed,” the freaking Immortal told him, arms crossed.

 

…Okay, yeah, so he’d trained with Cor plenty of times, but this was like… different. They were actually out and there was serious business going on. Not like the nice, _safe_ training room.

 

“Prompto, tell me this.” The King limped over to him. “What can you tell us about this building?”

 

The building? Wha?

 

Oh.

 

Ohh, he got it now.

 

 


	17. 34-35/49

 

Loqi’s pacing was actually starting to wear on Ignis’ nerves. It was almost as though the man’s anxiousness was contagious, given the way Noct was shifting around uncomfortably too.

 

Loqi swore again at whatever message he’d gotten.

 

Aranea rolled her eyes, still seated close to Ignis and Noctis. “Moron… He’s going to get us _all_ killed.”

 

For some reason Ignis couldn’t explain, his heart gave a lurch at the thought. He… he didn’t want Aranea and Biggs to die. At least Wedge was safe at the Citadel, but this entire situation was set to explode at any moment, and Aranea and Biggs might be killed in the crossfire even if they weren’t fighting against Lucis.

 

If only there was a way to get word out to the King about their true predicament.

 

* * *

 

 

“…annnnd I think that’s about it,” Prompto finished, scratching the back of his neck and looking down at the modifications he’d made on the outdated schematics for Seventh Heaven.

 

“And you’re sure there’s no other way in?” the Glaive leaning on the table beside Pelna – Nyx, hadn’t he said his name was? – asked again.

 

“Not that I remember, no. But… I wasn’t really looking.” Crap, why couldn’t he remember better?

 

“It’s fine, kid,” Pelna said, still studying the stuff Prompto had marked. “This helps a lot.”

 

“Oh… okay, good.” Prompto felt proud, but also crowded and really nervous. There were a lot of important people here depending on his memory to save Noct and Iggy. And he was in his ratty jogging clothes. And cold.

 

Prompto noticed the King wasn’t looking at the table with the schematics. He was… staring off into the sky.

 

“Er, Your Majesty?” Prompto verbally prodded.

 

“These buildings around us…” The King didn’t look down. “Might we be able to gain a better vantage point into the diner from one of them?”

 

“Oh! Yeah!” Prompto pointed. “I used that one to take some pictures while I was waiting on Noct one day – it’s got a great view!” He scrambled for his camera, which he’d thankfully shoved into his pocket earlier. “The staff were super nice and let me in.” He skimmed through the pictures as quickly as he could. “Here!”

 

He shoved his camera at the King, cheeks reddening when he realized what he’d done. Noct’s dad didn’t seem to mind, though, and the Marshal and that Captain guy leaned over to see as well.

 

“It’s a better vantage point,” the Captain guy agreed. “But too far away to help in a direct attack.”

 

“Can’t you just use snipers?” Prompto blurted out. He needed to stop doing that. This wasn’t a video game. The important people looked like they were considering his words, though.

 

“Captain Drautos?” the King questioned.

 

Drautos dude shook his head with a frown. “The Glaives don’t favor guns. I don’t have any I could guarantee would hit their mark from that distance.”

 

“And the Guard?” The King looked to the Marshal.

 

Cor’s brow was pinched, his arms crossed as well. “I know two that could make a shot, myself being one of them. The other’s not officially a Guard, though. Not yet, anyway.”

 

Prompto felt like he might evaporate on the spot when the Marshal looked up directly at him.

 

“ _Me?_ ” Prompto squeaked.

 

“ _Him?_ ” Drautos raised an eyebrow.

 

The Marshal nodded. “Best shot I’ve ever trained.”

 

Whoa, for real? The Immortal had just said that about him? Any other time, he’d be celebrating. Right now he was just… what?

 

“Sir!” Pelna protested, standing up straight. “With respect, the kid’s seventeen. He’s not ready for an actual operation like this.”

 

“I was thirteen,” was Cor’s reply, not seeming fazed.

 

The King’s gaze flickered between Prompto and Cor before settling on Prompto. “The choice is yours, Prompto. You needn’t accept the task if you feel you aren’t ready. In fact, you accepting and being unprepared could have dire consequences.”

 

Prompto licked his lip. “…I’ll do it.”

 

The King’s look was strong. Speculative. “You are certain.”

 

Prompto nodded. “If it’ll help Noct and Iggy… I can do it.”

 

“I’ll find you a weapon,” Cor said after a pause.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m still waiting for a plan,” Aranea said casually, taking another bite out of the whole pie that she’d found in the kitchen. “Since, you know, you hung up on the King of Lucis?”

 

Loqi swore again, but it was more directed at his phone than her. “They’re setting up snipers. You may want to warn your man to stay away from the windows. Or don’t. I don’t particularly care.”

 

The image of his punching Loqi in the face made a reappearance in Aranea’s mind again. She sighed. Biggs could probably use some food, and pie might help with the sullen mood he was in. It way past time she had a real talk with him anyway.

 

“Have fun,” she muttered to Specs and the Prince, heading for the stairs.

 

Biggs was anything but keeping a careful watch upstairs. He was sitting against the back wall of the arcade, gun off to the side on the floor as he propped his elbows on his knees.

 

“Hey.” Aranea climbed the last of the steps, moving over to sit by him. “Pie?”

 

Biggs gave the pie a look and snorted in amusement. “I’ll take a bite or two, I guess.”

 

Aranea handed him the spare fork she had with her. “Could use some heating and ice cream, but it’s still pretty damn good pie.”

 

Biggs took a few small bites, though Aranea could tell his appetite really wasn’t compelling him to.

“Spit it out, Biggs,” Aranea said finally.

 

Biggs pushed a piece of apple around the dish. “How did we end up in this situation, Lady A?”

 

Aranea shrugged. “Lack of specificity on our employment contract?”

 

Biggs snorted again. “Yeah, guess so… Do you… think Wedge is all right?”

 

“Oh, yeah.” If there was any bright side to this, it was that. “The Lucians won’t kill him, and he’s out of firing range. Better off than us, actually.”

 

Biggs dropped his fork, pressing his palms into his eyes. “I’m pretty sure Loqi’s gonna go ballistic and kill us all soon.”

 

“Yeah, you won’t mind if I use you for a meat shield when that happens, right?”

 

Biggs spluttered. “Oh, not at all. Sure.”

 

“That’s the spirit.” Like she’d ever do that. They’d probably be more likely to fight over who was jumping in front a bullet for the other if they were given the time.

 

“Seriously, though… Do you see a way out of this for us?”

 

“I’m not sure, Biggs.” Aranea shook her head. “I should have taken the chance and gotten us out of this earlier…”

 

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Biggs nudged her arm. “Wedge and I could have put our foot down too, but we never did either.”

 

“Yeah, because you were waiting for me to. You guys always follow my decisions.”

 

“Well, that’s cuz you’ve earned our respect. We trust your judgement.”

 

“I know. And I’m trying not to let you down.” She reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m gonna get you out of this, Biggs, I promise.”

 

“I know you’ll give it your best shot, Lady A.” He smiled at her.

 

His stomach growled then. Loudly.

 

They both burst into laughter.

 

“Here.” Aranea shoved the pie at him. “Clearly you need this more than me.”

 

“Nah, actually, I think I need real food – not dessert.” He gave her the pie back. “I’m gonna grab somethin’ from the kitchen, if you don’t mind.”

 

“Go for it. I’ll keep an eye out up here.”

 

So long as he kept out of Loqi’s way, she doubted there would be too much trouble. Loqi was too busy swearing at his phone.

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis waited until Aranea’s footsteps had faded upstairs to turn his attention fully to Loqi. This was the last chance to reason with him. Not that Ignis would lose any sleep over Loqi dying, but if Loqi surrendered, there was a much better chance of Aranea and Biggs making it out unscathed. Not to mention the threat to Noct if a full fight started. He had to at least _try_ to talk one more time.

“Aranea is right, you know,” he said subduedly, trying not to provoke Loqi’s wrath with a challenging tone. “You are out of options. There’s only so long you can keep us here, and killing one of us will only guarantee your own death. King Regis is a merciful ruler – you can still cut a deal with him.”

 

Loqi scoffed, not even looking up from his phone. “Somehow I doubt he’ll be all that _merciful_ to me after I killed a Lucian civilian. This is far from over, as you and Highwind seem to think.”

 

“Are you serious?” Noct piped up. “You are _surrounded_. There’s no way out of here. Trust me, I work here – I _know_ how much of a prison it is.”

 

“I wouldn’t worry about that, _Prince._ You may not be here for much longer, depending on your father.” Loqi strutted over to the glass, mimicking a phone call with his hand and walking back into the store unfortunately before anyone could shoot him. He waited by the phone that belonged to the restaurant.

 

The phone rang only a few moments later, and Loqi smirked in Ignis’ direction. “You want me to make a deal with His Royal Highness? I’ll offer him a deal. Let’s see just how much he values your life in comparison to his own son’s.”

 

Ignis almost rolled his eyes. As though that was under question. He wasn’t the Chosen King. He wasn’t and never would be chosen over Noct.

 

* * *

 

“The gall of the guy,” Gladio growled under his breath as the Imperial waltzed over to the window and pretty much demanded the King of Lucis to call him. Too bad Cor and Prompto couldn’t have taken him out then, but then Ignis and Noct would still be captives of the mercenaries, and they might freak and do something drastic.

 

The King was anything but pleased as Clarus dialed the number and handed him the phone. The Imperial started talking before the King even got a word in.

 

“ _Here’s the deal, Your Majesty. I want a vehicle parked outside this building and the way cleared. I will be driving out of the city before nightfall._ ”

“The hell you will,” Gladio muttered.

 

“And my incentive for granting you this?” the King asked.

 

“ _One of the hostages will be freed. Your choice which one, but I don’t assume that will be a difficult choice given the options._ ”

 

“ _You expect me to allow you to leave with one of them?_ ”

 

“ _I expect that you’d prefer one of them to return home safely rather than their body being tossed out the window. Do take all the time you need to think it over. I’ll be waiting. You have until dusk. And if you think you can rescue them without my offer, do remember than you’re rather past the age of producing another heir._ ”

 

With that, the Imperial hung up again.

 

The King’s expression was unnervingly dark.

 

“Perhaps we should consider his offer,” Gladio’s father said.

 

The King and about three Glaives looked like they were about to protest, and Gladio was with them, but his dad held up a hand, stopping them before they started.

 

“Obviously not the full extent of it, but going along with the first part would leave us with only one hostage to rescue instead of two – a better situation than we are in currently.”

 

“Surely he’ll expect that?” the Glaive that had brought Prompto said.

 

The King rested both hands on his cane. “All the same, I’d like a vehicle prepared in advance so it’s available if needed. Captain, put one of your Glaives on that.”

 

“How many trackers and sabotaged pieces would you like, Your Majesty?” Uric said.

 

“However many he’ll expect, and then more.”

 

Uric grinned. “Consider it done, Your Majesty.”

 

 

 

 


	18. 37-39/49

 

Prompto’s foot was itching. So. Freaking. Bad. And it probably wouldn’t be too long before he needed to pee.

 

It had been at least a few hours that he and Cor had been in this building now, stretched out on their stomachs and watching the building. They could see further in to the building now than when they were on the street. The top floor with the arcade was even mostly visible, along with one of the two mercenaries that kept trading off. They could take out whichever of them was on the top floor almost any time, but since they still couldn’t see Noct or Iggy, that didn’t really help. Probably just piss off that douche canoe Imperial and make him kill Noct or Iggy, or chop one of their limbs off or something.

 

Yeah, nope. Bad Idea. Not shooting yet. …If he even could.

 

Prompto blinked sweat out of his eye. He’d only ever shot stuff in the training rooms before. Never a real person. Could he even? No, he _had_ to. Noct and Iggy weren’t gonna die because he couldn’t do what needed to be done to save them. They were counting on him, even if they didn’t know it. The Marshal wouldn’t have suggested him if he hadn’t thought he could do this. Prompto wouldn’t let them all down.

 

…If he even needed to shoot, that was. The Glaives were gonna be back with that car soon. If Noct’s dad planned on stopping them later, then he and Cor wouldn’t even get the chance to get a shot off.

 

Prompto flexed his fingers. This really was way more uncomfortable than it was in any of his and Noct’s video games. Not that he was going to complain out loud with the Immortal right next to him. He was not going to make him regret his choice. Nope, nope, nope. He’d just keep his mouth shut. No matter how many hours he had to be here.

 

…Dammit, he was hungry too.

 

Aw, man, that Imperial guy said he wanted to leave at dusk. This really sucked, on all levels.

 

* * *

 

 

Nyx pulled himself from under the car. “Done.”

 

“That outta do it.” Luche finished putting one last tracker in the shotgun seat of the car and then backed away.

 

“Good.” The Captain checked over their work. “Let’s take it to the site, then.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Luche cut around Nyx, sliding into the shotgun seat again, shooting a grin at Nyx. “Too slow, Ulric.”

 

“I’m heartbroken.” Nyx pocketed one of the extra small trackers behind his back. _Sorry, Luche, Captain. Gotta go with my gut. No offense._

 

The ride back was quiet. Too quiet for Nyx to plant his last tracker if he was going to do it without anyone’s notice. Not that he didn’t trust Luche and the Captain, just… that Imperial’s intel was too good. It was safer if only Nyx knew about the last tracker, otherwise somebody could overhear something and his plan would go straight to hell.

 

“You think the King will do it if it comes down to choosing the Prince over Scientia?” Luche asked as they sat at a red light.

 

“Hard to say.” The Captain’s tone was tight as he gripped the steering wheel firmly. “He has made compromises before.”

 

Nyx scowled, shaking his head. “Pulling back to protect what we can is one thing, but even putting moral choices aside, Scientia’s got too much information for the King to let the Empire walk out of here with him.”

 

“Normally, I’d agree,” the Captain said, making a right turn.

 

“Normally?” Nyx prompted.

 

The Captain sent him a look via the rear-view mirror. “This is the life of his _son._ ”

 

“But he’s also watched Scientia grow up.” Nyx shook his head again. “I wouldn’t bank on him making hasty emotional decision anyway.”

 

“Perhaps not.” The Captain’s lips pressed together into a line. “Only time will tell.”

* * *

 

 

They parked the car some distance back from the front of the restaurant, and the Captain immediately headed to talk to the King. Luche went to join the other Glaives that were around.

 

Nyx hung back, making sure no one was looking as he planted the last tracker and double checked that it was sending its signal to the device he had. Different frequency than any others. Perfect.

 

With that done, he shut the door and headed over to follow the Captain. The King was just hanging up on another phone call.

 

“Somehow, I doubt it’s going to be him coming to check the car,” the younger Amicitia said.

 

His father hummed in agreement. “He wouldn’t risk that. He’ll send one of the mercenaries.”

 

“If one of the mercenaries is still upstairs at that point, couldn’t the Marshal and Argentum take both of them out then?” Pelna asked, leaning on the table and still favoring his leg. Must have been hurting, even if the potion had mostly taken care of the wound.

 

The Marshal’s voice crackled over the comm. “ _That could still leave Loqi with enough time to kill a hostage._ ”

 

“Not if the Glaive rush in before Loqi realizes what happened,” the older Amicitia said.

 

The King was scanning the building. “As things are, it seems our best chance. Should both mercenaries be out of cover, we take it. Understood?”

 

“ _Understood,_ ” the Marshal echoed.

 

“ _Y-yes, sir. Um. Your Majesty,_ ” Argentum managed to get out. That poor kid. Nothing made someone grow up quicker than a situation like this.

 

“Have your men ready, Captain,” the King ordered.

 

The Captain nodded, moving off to presumably tell the other Glaives. Nyx slid in closer to the King as soon he was gone. “A word, Your Majesty?”

 

The King looked at him curiously. “Yes?”

 

Nyx gave the Amicitias and Pelna a look. “Very… delicate matter, Your Majesty.” He could feel the frowns on his back, but the King gave him a nod and gestured for his Shield and the others to stay back as he walked away from the table and beckoned only Nyx to follow.

 

“What troubles you, Glaive?” The King was relying heavily on his cane, and Nyx almost felt bad for making him walk.

 

Nyx folded his hands behind his back. “To be frank, Your Majesty, I consider myself good at my job, and the men and women I work with are more than capable too. Except… it took well over a day for us to find our targets, and that was after we’d been pointed in the right direction multiple times by the people _we_ were supposed to be rescuing. We combed just about every inch of this city, and we didn’t find anything until something went wrong on Loqi’s end.”

 

The King looked thoughtful. “What are you implying?”

 

Nyx looked around, making sure no one was close enough to hear. “Loqi’s too well informed. He had to know where every Glaive was to get around us like that, and that’s not even bringing up how he knew where and when to grab Scientia in the first place.” Nyx paused, sucking in a breath. There’d be no taking this back. His friends would be under suspicion, but it had to be said. “I think we’ve got a leak.”

 

The King gave a slow nod. “I wouldn’t be truthful if I told you that thought hadn’t crossed my mind prior to now.”

 

Nyx glanced around again. “Here.” He slipped the locator out of his pocket and handed it to the King. “I planted an extra tracker in the car that no one else knows about. If Loqi manages to find all but that one, then we’ll know for sure.”

 

The King arched an eyebrow at him. “Do remind me to raise your pay once this is over. Well done.”

 

Nyx couldn’t help his grin. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

 

“Regis,” the Shield called, and Nyx almost snickered at the slip of the King’s first name. “Tummelt is demanding that we park the car out front for him to check.”

 

The King pocketed the locator. “Very well, then. Let us commence with our further negotiations.”

* * *

 

 

“I need to pee.”

 

Ignis almost sighed. Noct was… ever tactful.

 

“Hold it.”

 

At this point, Ignis was almost convinced Loqi’s face had been permanently set into a scowl.

 

“Fine,” Noct said cheerfully. “I’ll just pee my pants and then make _you_ smell like pee by the time you get back to Niflheim.”

 

Ignis snorted.

 

Loqi growled under his breath. “Callux, take the Prince to relieve himself.” He raised his voice after that. “Highwind! Get down here!”

 

Biggs helped Noct up and led him towards the back. A few seconds later and Aranea’s boots were thumping down the stairs.

 

“What?” she demanded.

 

Loqi held up his phone. “You’ll be removing all the trackers from the vehicle they’re providing us with. Their locations are all on here.”

 

“Oh, what fun,” she groused, accepting the phone and studying whatever was on it.

 

Biggs and Noct returned shortly, and Loqi pointed at Biggs. “Callux, head upstairs, but say in the stairwell, understood?”

 

“Whatever,” Biggs grumbled.

 

“Just don’t get yourself shot.”

 

“Oh, like you’d even care if I did!” Biggs tossed over his shoulder, halfway up the stairs.  

 

Noct leaned over to Ignis, whispering, “You know, I think I’ve found what I’m writing for my senior paper in social studies…”

 

Ignis chuckled. “Well, thank the Astrals this has all been good for something.” He still had his eyes on Aranea, though. _She_ was the one Loqi was sending outside. _She_ was the one Regis might have taken out.

 

He didn’t take his eyes off her as she headed out the door with the fearless determination that she’d carried the whole time he’d been with this group. Of course, with Loqi’s source being the head of the Glaive, she was going to find anything that had been put into that car. Ignis’ only hope was that the King didn’t order the Glaive to storm the building upon seeing that the car couldn’t be tracked – after all, that was the only way the King would have agreed to this.

 

Ignis couldn’t see everything, but it was obvious Aranea was finding a lot of trackers in that car. In fact, Ignis might have wagered the weight of the trackers to _equal_ that of the car.

 

“Good grief, Dad,” Noct muttered after a while. Ignis concurred as the minutes ticked by. Aranea was outside for quite some while. Over a half hour by his estimate. It would have been even longer, but Aranea wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she automatically knew where everything was.

 

Ignis smirked. If that didn’t raise some suspicions about Loqi having someone on the inside, nothing would. And she was most definitely doing things that way on purpose.

 

Finally, after she’d pulled one last tracker from under the car, Aranea dusted her palms off and returned to the restaurant, looking more irritated than ever. “Well, that was tedious. Anything else you’d like me to do, Loqi? Bake you a cake? Shine your shoes?”

 

“Shut your mouth, perhaps?” Loqi had his nose in his phone again.

 

“Trackers or no trackers, you know King Regis won’t let you walk away with either of us?” Ignis asked.

 

“Oh, please. I’m not daft, Scientia.” Loqi smirked. “The car request is merely a diversion.”

 

“Are you frickin’ kidding me right now?” Aranea jabbed her finger at the car outside. “I’ve been out there for like forty-five minutes with two snipper lights on me, you asshole. Would it kill you to share the plan?”

 

“The plan” – Loqi tapped a few more keys – “is rather simple. We have multiple decoys ready to lead the Lucians on a merry chase once the confusion starts.”

 

“And what confusion would that be?” Aranea asked, hands on her hips.

 

“Oh, you’ll see, Highwind. You’ll see. Come nightfall, we’ll be free of this city.”

 

Aranea snorted. “Yeah. I’ll believe that when I’m back in my airship. Also, daemons? Did we forget those are a thing?”

 

“We have little choice in risking that encounter now, but don’t worry. We only need to make it as far as your ship.”

 

Noct leaned close to him again. “What kind of diversion could distract the entire Glaive and Guard?”

 

Ignis wasn’t sure he knew the answer to that, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out either.


	19. 39/49

 

“Get them to the back door.” Loqi put his phone away for the first time in hours. “Now. We’re leaving.”

 

“…You do realize there are just as many Glaives out that door as out front, right?” Aranea helped the Prince and Specs both to their feet. Biggs took his spot behind the Prince and shooed him in the right direction with a light nudge.

 

“Obviously, but their focus will be elsewhere soon.” Loqi headed into the back of the restaurant, unlocking the door and then pulling out the phone again.

 

Six, he was worse than most teenagers.

 

“…You know, the Glaives aren’t dumb enough to all run away from their posts if something happens, right?” Noctis asked. “We are gonna get mobbed by like twenty people.”

 

Loqi smirked for what felt like the nine hundredth time. “Wager your life on that, Prince?”

 

“Loqi, do me a favor and stop acting like a smug asshole and actually carry though with something for once,” Aranea said, standing ready as she faced the door.

 

Loqi’s nostrils flared like an enraged beast’s, but he said nothing. Not as though he could have a proper defense for that when all his promises had fallen flat before.

 

“Just be ready to run.” Loqi gave Specs and the Prince a look. “Make sure they don’t cause any trouble.”

 

“Why ever would we do that?” Specs muttered sarcastically.

 

* * *

 

 

Prompto never thought he’d die from an itch, but he was finding out that it was definitely a real cause of death. His foot was screaming at him for mercy. He couldn’t ignore it any longer, but he didn’t want to actually move and make it obvious what he was doing.

 

Slowly, Prompto brought his other foot to cross over the itching one, trying to rub the spot with the toe of his shoe. It wasn’t working. His shoe’s top was too thick. There wasn’t enough contact. Prompto bit his lip, trying not to scream in frustration as he _really_ tried to dig his toe into the spot. Still not helping. All it was doing was making his bladder condition worse.

 

“Do you have a problem, Prompto?”

 

Prompto froze, foot still screaming as he looked to his left. “Um… no?” Yeah, that sounded convincing. Totally.

 

“Spit it out. I can’t have you distracted in the field.” Cor didn’t even take his gaze from his gun.

 

Prompto sighed. Here went Cor’s respect and faith in his abilities. “…My foot inches. And I _really_ need to pee.”

 

Cor’s chuckle was so quiet Prompto almost missed it. “I was wondering how long you’d last before something like that came up.”

 

Prompt could feel his face heating up. “…Sorry.”

 

“No need to apologize, Prompto.” Cor’s tone was actually lighter than usual. More like a normal teacher rather than a Crownsguard instructor. “Men with decades of experience still have problems such as that. You haven’t been trained for this type of situation at all.”

 

“Yeah, but…” Prompto nibbled on his lip. “Everyone’s counting on me anyway. I gotta do my best here, or someone could, like, actually die–”

 

“Quiet.”

 

For a second, Prompto’s heart skipped a beat and he thought he’d said something wrong, but then he noticed how Cor’s head tilted as he pulled away from his gun and pressed his ear to the floor. After a few moments, something flickered in the Immortal’s gaze.

 

“ _Move.”_ Cor shoved himself to his feet, grabbing Prompto’s collar and dragging him away from the window. “Move!”

 

Prompto scrambled, trying to get his balance before sprinting alongside the Marshal to the stairwell.

* * *

 

 

Nyx stood by the King’s side, lips pressed into a firm line. He really, really hated that he was right. There was definitely a traitor around here somewhere.

 

The King seemed displeased as he looked at the car in front of the restaurant. “She knew precisely where each tracker was located, with the exception of yours.”

 

“Didn’t much look like she was making an effort to hide that either,” Nyx noted. That was just odd. If someone was feeding them intel and keeping them alive, wouldn’t they want to keep that fact hidden?

 

“Whatever her reasons might be, I find it rather difficult not to believe we have someone leaking information now.”

 

“Yeah, that’s seeming more than unlikely at this point.” Nyx’s fingers curled into fists. Who would be willing to betray the Crown, though? He’d worked with almost everyone here – fought with them. It had to be someone high up, or someone who was one hell of a hacker, given the amount of info they’d gotten. “What _are_ they up to?”

 

“I’ve been wondering that as well,” the King said. “I do doubt _Loqi_ believes I’ll let him simply walk away with one of the boys–”

 

Nyx ducked reflexively, cutting between the King and the explosion as one of the floors of a building behind them went up in flames.

 

Shit. The Marshal and that kid…

 

“Ulric, watch that restaurant!” the King ordered, eyes blazing with a fury Nyx hadn’t seen from him before. Oh, yeah, he was pissed. Two more lives lost, and this time it was one of the King’s closest friends and his son’s best friend.

 

Nyx gave the King a single nod and sprinted away, warping to higher ground as soon as he could. What was the point of that explosion? Even with it as a distraction, there was no way they were getting out with this many eyes around.

 

“ _Targets sighted trying to escape to the north!_ ” Tredd reported over the comm.

 

…To the north. Right. _Away_ from the gate. And they were outside the Glaive’s circle on the building already.

 

Like hell.

 

Nyx didn’t know if Tredd was a traitor or just reporting what he saw, but there was no doubt in his mind that those were just more decoys like the one Luche had seen earlier.

 

The real Loqi and his hostages had to be around somewhere, and they would be heading south. There was no way they’d be able to get out the front even with that kind of distraction, but if the Glaives watching the back alley went after the decoys…

 

Nyx headed for the back of the building.

 

Not under his watch.

 

“ _Nyx, what are you doing?_ ” Pelna asked, and Nyx spotted him hanging back from the other Glaives who were rushing north.

 

“Call it a hunch,” was all Nyx told him, though he was positive Pelna wasn’t a traitor. He was the one who’d captured the other mercenary, and he’d been alone when he’d found Loqi. It wouldn’t make sense for him to report them when he could have just let them go then if he was a traitor.

 

Still. The comm went to all the Glaive. He couldn’t risk it.

 

He crossed the rooftops as quickly as he could, filling in where the other Glaives had just left.

 

There!

 

A trace of movement in the shadows. The white-shirted mercenary was what really gave them away.

 

Okay. _Now_ he’d risk the help. “Pelna, get your ass over here! They’re using decoys again – I’ve got eyes on the real targets.”

 

He jumped off the roof, panting his dagger in the ground and warping out of the air to appear in front of the group on the ground.

 

Nyx couldn’t help but relish the surprise on the Imperial’s face.

 

“You don’t know when enough is enough, do you, pal?”

 

The Prince was immediately hauled close to the Imperial via the collar, a knife in the Imperial’s hand. “You stay back!”

 

“You’ve got nowhere to run, Imperial,” Nyx said as Plena appeared beside him.

 

“Back,” the Imperial hissed at the others. “Back inside.”

 

Nyx could have sworn he saw the woman mercenary roll her eyes, but she did as he said, keeping an almost gentle hand on Scientia’s arm.

 

Nyx followed them, keeping the distance between them the same. “You can’t hide in there forever, Loqi. And you are gonna have _hell_ to pay for killing the Marshal.”

 

The Imperial’s reply was to back into the restaurant and slam the door in their faces.

 

* * *

 

 

When Nyx and Pelna returned to the front of the restaurant, it was chaos. The fire department had yet to arrive on the scene, so the building adjacent to the restaurant was still on fire. It looked like some of the Guard and Glaive were trying to put it out.

 

The King, his Shield, and the Prince’s Shield all stood with their eyes on the flames. For the King and his Shield, there was clearly anger, but it was more composed. The younger Amicitia looked like he might hit anything that got close to him.

 

Damn. The younger Amicitia wasn’t a kid, but he was still young, and he’d just lost a mentor _and_ a friend. Looked like this generation of the Crown was getting broken in pretty early. Far earlier than they deserved.

 

And then the front door of the building was thrown open, and the Marshal and the Argentum kid appeared.

 

Thank the Six, but how even?

 

The Marshal looked as composed as ever, calmly walking out with a sour expression. Argentum staggered out less gracefully, coughing on smoke, but still looking overall none the worse for wear.

 

The relief was palpable from the King and his Shield, but the younger Amicitia broke off from their sides, running directly to the Argentum kid.

 

Yeah. Still young. Nyx wondered if the older Amicitia would fault his son for that. A normal father wouldn’t. But the Shields weren’t normal.

 

The King’s gaze turned directly on Nyx, and he beckoned him over with a slight tilt of his head. No time for relief when one was the King with a kidnapped son, Nyx guessed.

 

“Your Majesty.”

 

“I have a task for you, Ulric. Listen well.” The King lowered his voice so only Nyx could hear, earning an odd look from his Shield, but the man said nothing.

 

Nyx gave the King a nod when he was done explaining. He understood perfectly, and he pulled away to make himself look busy as the Marshal approached.

 

“I want you and my son’s friend to go get yourselves checked over at the wing in the Citadel,” the King said before the Marshal could get a word in.

 

For once, the Immortal actually looked confused. “Majesty? Neither of us were in the blast. Not a scratch on us. We should change our position and resume–”

 

“You’ve both suffered possible trauma and possible damage to your lungs due to smoke inhalation.”

 

“Nope!” Argentum sent him a thumbs-up, his voice a little raspy, but he was no longer coughing. “Fine here!”

 

Gee, that was false cheer if Nyx had ever heard it. The kid was definitely shaken. Not that Nyx blamed him.

 

“This is not a request,” the King said harshly, still looking at Cor. “Take the boy and go to medical. Now. Ulric will drive you.”

 

The Marshal’s expression hardened, but he bowed anyway. “Yes, Your Majesty…”

 

Nyx took that as his cue, heading for a nearby car and sliding into the driver’s seat. He tapped his fingers on the wheel until Argentum and the Marshal got into the car.

 

“…because of me?” Argentum was rambling. “It is, isn’t it? You’re the Immortal – there’s no way he’d just send you away at a time like this! I can go to the hospital myself – I’m not even hurt! You should be here to help Noct and Iggy!”

 

“My King gave me an order, Prompto,” the Marshal said as he buckled into the shotgun seat. “His word is final, whether I like it or not.”

 

He definitely did _not_ like it. Actually, even though the Marshal had what some of the Glaive had labeled as a ‘perpetual resting bitch face,’ he looked especially pissed at the moment.

 

“But… but…” Argentum stammered.

 

“Yeah, about all that,” Nyx interrupted, making them both look at him. “Let me tell you the King’s _real_ orders.”

 

“Make it quick,” the Marshal demanded. “Loqi is going to be panicked and irrational at this point. There’s no telling what he might do.”

 

 


	20. 40/49

  
 

Another time, watching Loqi wear a hole in the floor while constantly swearing until he was out of breath might have been entertaining, but amusement was far from Ignis’ mind at the moment.

 

Cor. The Marshal. The _Immortal_. One of their mentors. _Dead._

 

Ignis could feel the anger radiating from Noct as the Prince was glaring death at Loqi. It was… unsettling. This wasn’t a type of anger he’d seen from Noct before. Noct sent him glares all the time when he didn’t want to do his homework or eat his vegetables, but this was different. Noct had a steely resolve behind his eyes that… rather made him looked like his father.

 

Ignis was angry too. No, he was more than that. But he had to stay focused, now more than ever. Loqi was near unhinged at this point, and Ignis would not have Noct harmed if the Imperial snapped.

 

Noct flinched as a glass flew across the room and landed somewhat near his head. Not that Loqi had even been aiming at Noct. Clearly he was blindly hurling things about while throwing a tantrum.

 

Biggs looked rather anxious, warily watching the Imperial that they all hated thoroughly by now.

 

Meanwhile, Aranea leaned against the wall, looking bored. “Is that helping?” she piped up brightly after a few more seconds of Loqi’s raging.

 

“Shut up, Highwind!” Loki roared. He probably would have said more, but his phone went off again. How surprising.

 

Loqi checked the message and promptly swore again so loud that Ignis wouldn’t have been surprised if the King heard it all the way outside.

 

Aranea sighed. “What now?”

 

Loqi held up a hand to silence her as he squinted at the screen and kept reading. “It appears the Marshal survived after all, but the King sent him and the other man to get medical attention.”

 

_Thank the Six…_

 

“Oh, hell yeah!” Noctis grinned.

 

Dammit, Noct. He didn’t need to draw attention to himself.

 

Loqi shot him a dirty look. “I wouldn’t get too excited, _Your Highness_. You no longer have any snipers on your side. Highwind, go resume your watch upstairs.”

 

Ignis was concerned at Loqi’s tone. The underlying tightness and hostility was so high, anything might set him off. Ignis would have much rather had Aranea close by at this point.

 

But she had to do what he said. For Biggs, of course. Not herself. How did one so selfless become a mercenary?

 

Aranea shot Biggs a look that clearly said for him to alert her if anything happened. Biggs nodded, taking her spot on the wall as she headed upstairs.

 

“No, _you_ go keep an eye on the Lucians closer to the front,” Loqi ordered Biggs.

 

Biggs gave him a look of disbelief. “The front? Are you actually trying to kill me off now?”

 

“Oh, they won’t kill you – they don’t have any snipers anymore!” Loqi yelled, his hand with the phone in it shaking. “Just do it!”

 

Biggs held his hands up in a pacifying gesture, slowly getting closer to the front of the restaurant, but keeping the remaining three of them in view for a while until he finally turned to watching out the restaurant’s front.

 

Loqi frantically rubbed his neck, his attention once again back on his phone like it was his only chance at life. It wasn’t. Loqi may have thought it was, but he was wrong. Nothing Drautos and Luche could do without blowing their covers would help Loqi at this point. If fact, even if Drautos and Luche _did_ blow their covers, it might not be enough. The only thing keeping Loqi alive at the moment was… well, Ignis and Noct. Why couldn’t he see that? At this rate, they’d all be killed.

 

“Loqi,” Ignis said softly, not wanting to spook the man and make him lash out like the animal he was acting similarly to. Perhaps, even if he couldn’t talk Loqi down, he could keep his focus on him instead of Noct. “Your chances of walking away from this with your life are demising rapidly. You cannot walk away now. You’re out of options.”

 

“The hell I am,” Loqi snarled. “That decoy I set up earlier just became a true exit.”

 

Calm. He had to keep his voice absolutely free of hostility. “Do you honestly believe that the King will let you leave the city with me when he knows the information I possess?”

 

“He will if he wants his son alive!”

 

Ignis shook his head. “Loqi, he’d order a Glaive to take _my_ life before he let you take me with you – as both a protection for Insomnia and a mercy to me.” Ignis could tell Noct was about to protest and elbowed him as best he could to get him to stay quiet. “You already know I’m prepared for that scenario, but what of you? You know too much yourself. Somehow, I doubt your friends in the Glaive will want you giving up their identities. Will you lay down your life for theirs?”

 

Loqi turned away from him, running a hand through his hair. Good. He truly was thinking now.

 

“If you give yourself up, I can guarantee your life.” As much as that made Ignis’ skin crawl, it was better than the alternative.

 

Loqi’s hand fell, and he looked at his phone one more time before returning it to his pocket. “I don’t need your protection,” he hissed, dangerously low, and Ignis’ blood ran a bit cold at the sound of it. “I need what’s in your head!”

 

Loqi spun around, marching straight for Ignis with an expression that actually made Ignis feel genuine fear. With his hands tied, he could still do nothing as he was yanked to his feet by the front of his shirt and dragged towards the kitchen.

 

“Hey!” Noct squirmed around, but he was left behind as Loqi pulled Ignis into the kitchen. “Iggy!”

 

Ignis couldn’t stop them from moving. The kitchen floor tiles were too slick beneath his feet, and he could find no purchase.

 

_Why the kitchen?_

 

He received his answer a moment later as Loqi snagged a dish towel on their way to the large sink.

 

_…Oh, Six._ Oh, Six, he knew where this was going.

 

He tried to struggle further, but Loqi drove him to the floor, throwing his head back against the tiles in the process. The world blurred, both from the impact and the fact that Loqi had just ripped his glasses off and tossed them aside.

 

Ignis heard the water running. Filling up a pitcher of some kind, by the sound of it.

 

Loqi grabbed his collar again, staring down at him. “Just a few answers and I won’t need you anymore at all anyway. I can pass the information along, and no one will be the wiser until it’s too late!” The Imperial’s gaze was wild, and Ignis knew there’d be no reasoning with him any longer. “Tell me: how can you obtain access to where the Crystal is being kept? What are the types of security used, and how do we get past them?”

 

Ignis pressed his lips shut.

 

No. He wouldn’t. He would not betray the Crown. He could do this.

 

Loqi made a face at his lack of answer and held Ignis down with his knee on his chest, shoving the cloth over his face.

 

_Astrals, grant me strength._

 

“ _Hey, what are you doing?_ ”

 

_No, Noct. Go away._ Loqi wasn’t even watching him – he should run.

 

“Teaching you an early course in negotiation!”

 

Ignis scrunched his eyes shut as he heard the sound of the pitcher being lifted from the sink.

 

_Endure, endure, endure._

 

He had to withstand this for Noct, and the King, and all of Lucis.

 

He had…

 

He needed…

 

_Oh, Astrals, just run, Noct. Get out of here before you see–_

 

_Water._

Try as he might, he couldn’t get away from it as began to fill his nostrils and mouth.

* * *

 

 

Noct had some difficulty, but he pushed himself to his knees just before Biggs reached his side. “Ignis!”

 

“What ’append?” Biggs helped him to his feet. “Where’s he takin’ him?”

 

Noctis didn’t know. He didn’t care. He was going after him.

 

He shoved through the kitchen door with his shoulder, searching for where Loqi had taken Ignis. Couldn’t be far. There was only so far they _could_ go. The kitchen wasn’t _that_ big.

 

“Easy, mate!” Biggs caught up to him, grabbing his shoulder. “You’ll make him more angry!”

 

Noctis froze, but not because of Biggs’ words. It was because Loqi had Ignis pinned underneath him. Pinned underneath him, but thrashing and screaming through the water being poured over his face.  

 

Loqi glared over his shoulder at Noctis, wrapping one hand over Ignis’ throat, and he pulled the pitcher in his hand away for a moment. “Interfere and one of you _will_ die. Callux, I suggest you keep your mother in mind as well.”

 

It took Noctis a moment to register the words as Ignis’ wheezing, desperate gasps and coughs filled the air.

 

Biggs’ grip was like iron on Noctis’ arm as he watched the scene with almost as much horror as Noctis himself.

 

And then Loqi started dumping the pitcher again.

 

Noctis’ stomach lurched. Those screams and whimpers could not be from Ignis. Ignis was always composed. Ignis was… was being _tortured_ right in front of him. _Oh, Astrals…_

 

Again, Loqi stopped, ripping the cloth from Ignis’ face this time as he hacked and spluttered. “Give me the information, Scientia!”

 

Ignis caught his breath for the most part, and Noctis could see he was trembling even from as far away as he was. His voice was already hoarse. “You’ll gain… no information… from… me.”

 

The cloth was shoved back onto his face, water torrenting over it only a moment later.

 

Noctis clawed at the ropes around his wrists, trying to ignore the burning. He tried to focus on his magic rather than the horrible noises coming from his friend’s covered mouth.

 

Magic. He needed his magic.

 

He willed a dagger into his hands, awkwardly sawing at the bonds. There was no way Biggs didn’t notice, but he didn’t stop him either.

 

“Tell me what I want to know and this will end, Scientia!”

 

There was more fear in Ignis’ gaze than Noctis had ever imagined possible. Noctis sawed faster, ignoring how the blade nicked his skin a couple times.

 

“You’ll gain… no information–”

 

Loqi shoved the cloth back on with a snarl. “Answer the damn question!”

 

The last strand of rope was cut, and Noctis tried to charge forwards, but Biggs was still holding his arm.

 

“Let me go, dammit!” Noctis fought, but he still felt foggy-headed and weak from the gunshot earlier. His arm still _hurt_.

 

“Don’t be stupid!” Biggs hissed, lowering his mouth next to Noctis’ ear. “He’ll just use you against him – Ignis would give up anything to keep you alive.”

 

Noctis froze again, Ignis’ muffled screams burrowing further into his ears. Biggs was right. Ignis… Ignis would cave completely if Loqi threatened him, and Noctis wasn’t even sure he could beat Loqi in a fight. If Loqi was thinking clearly, he would have already used Noctis to get the information from Ignis.

 

Ignis’ entire body was twitching, jerking in a vain attempt to get away from his tormenter.

 

“I can’t just let this happen!” Noctis pulled against Biggs’ grip.

 

“No,” Biggs said, his tone firm. “We can’t.”

 

_We?_

 

Noctis tore his gaze away from Ignis long enough to look at Biggs. The mercenary let go of him. “Go get Aranea.”

 

Noctis was hesitant. What if Biggs couldn’t go through with helping Ignis? “What about your–”

 

“She’d bloody kill me ’erself if I let this happen to save ’er. Go!”

 

Noctis gave Ignis one last look as Biggs pulled out his gun. Noctis ran off as fast as he could with his cramping muscles, Biggs’ words following him. “Loqi! Enough!”

 

“Stay out of this, Callux!”

 

“I won’t. This time you’ve gone too far! I’m not gonna let you–”

 

The gunshot that filled the diner was so loud that Noctis staggered as he whipped around.

 

…Just in time to see Biggs’ gun drop from his hand as he collapsed back onto the floor with crimson blossoming across his white shirt.

 

Loqi’s glare was completely devoid of anything resembling sanity as he turned his gun on Noctis.


	21. 40.2/49

 

Gladio couldn’t help but feel like something was off. He could understand the King sending Prompto home, but Cor? Now? While Noctis was so close to being killed? It didn’t add up. Not with Cor not having a scratch on him. And Ulric too? That Glaive had single-handedly just stopped Loqi from escaping. Not that Gladio thought the King was stupid. Of course not. Which was why none of this made any sense whatsoever.

 

Unless… unless he was missing something. But what?

 

“Any sign of them?” The King spoke in his normal tone, but Gladio knew he was talking to that other Glaive over the comm. Penelo or Pimento or something. Without the snipers up there to get a better view, the King had ordered the Glaive to take position on another nearby building so he could see deeper into the upper floor of the arcade.

 

“ _Just the woman. She’s…_ ”

 

“She’s what?” Gladio’s dad pressed.

 

“ _…She’s playing on the pinball machine, sir._ ”

 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Gladio muttered. She was playing a game? What the hell was the deal with these mercenaries? It was like they didn’t even care if their mission succeeded or failed.

 

“ _Other than that, still no sign of the others. They must still be in the back on the first floor._ ”

 

“Doing what, exactly?” the King wondered, his gaze lingering on the phone on the table next to his right hand.

 

Gladio was following his line of thought. Why hadn’t the Imperial asked for another phone call yet? Was he trying to come up with another plan? Probably, but given what they’d seen of this guy so far, he should have called to make more threats or something. He couldn’t think they could hide back there all day–

 

_Bang._

 

All heads turned in the direction of the restaurant.

 

Shit.

 

That was a gunshot.

 

The King’s posture straightened. “Converge! Every Guard and Glaive–”

 

“ _I have eyes on the Prince!_ ” the Glaive up high said. “ _Majesty, he’s gesturing for us to stay back._ ”

 

The King scowled harshly. “Any sign of Ignis?”

 

“ _No, Sire._ ”

 

The King hesitated, and Gladio’s mind raced. If Noctis wanted them to stay back, it had to be for a reason. Maybe the Imperial was threatening Ignis? Would the King take the chance of rushing in now to save Noctis?

 

“Hold positions!” the King ordered.

 

* * *

 

It was pure instinct from all the training he’d had over the years that let him warp away in time not to get shot again. Loqi was aiming to kill him. He wasn’t even threatening. The Imperial had actually _snapped_. 

 

Noctis overturned a table, ducking behind it.

 

Wait.

 

He was close to the door. Somebody outside could probably see him.

 

Crap. That gunshot was gonna have the whole Glaive and Guard in here without them knowing what was going on. They might kill Biggs and Aranea, or Loqi might shoot Ignis if he saw them coming.

 

Frantically, Noctis waved through the window behind him, gesturing for whoever could see him to stay back before throwing his sword at the stairs. He ran smack into Aranea, who was just entering the room.

 

“Whoa, what the hell is going on down here?”

 

“ _Loqi’s lost his mind and is trying to kill everyone,_ ” Noctis blurted out, not waiting for a reply before gabbing Aranea’s hand and dragging her back behind the same table.

 

“Where. Is. Biggs.”

 

“On the floor shot in the kitchen,” Noctis hissed. Footsteps. Loqi was almost to the eating room. “He tried to stop Loqi from torturing Ignis, and Loqi just started shooting!”

 

“Oh, that asshole is _so_ dead!” Aranea flicked her wrist, her lance appearing in a flash of red light.

 

Wait, what? How did– never mind. Not right now.

 

“Don’t! He’s still got Iggy in there too – he might just shoot them both before we get to him!”

 

“You got a better plan, then, Highness?” 

 

Yeah. Yeah, he did.

 

Loqi was here.

 

“I’ll lure him upstairs – you get to the kitchen!” Noctis didn’t give her time to say anything. He threw his sword back at the stairwell, ducking as another bullet hit near him.

 

* * *

 

That was an absolutely terrible plan, but Aranea wasn’t given a choice in going along with it as the Prince warped away and started dodging bullets as he headed up the stairs.

 

Aranea waited until she was sure Loqi was following him before she vaulted over the table and sprinted into the kitchen. “Biggs?”

 

“…’Ere…” came the weak, pained reply.

 

She wouldn’t have needed it, as she almost tripped over him right then.

 

“Shit, Biggs…” She crouched down, narrowing her eyes at the wound he was covering with his painted-red hands.

 

“The kid…” he mumbled. “Check on ’im…”

 

“I will, in a minute.” Dammit, that was not a good place to get shot. He needed real help, not field help.

 

“Lady A…” Biggs’ voice gained some strength as he looked up at her. “Finish this. Now. Please.”

 

Aranea paused before giving a slow nod. This should have ended a long time ago, and if it didn’t end now, Biggs _would_ die. “You hang in there until I get back, all right?”

 

Biggs gave a weak smile, his breath shaky. “Promise I’ll try.”

 

“You better do more than try,” she said as she stood, looking around for Specs. He wasn’t hard to find, and thankfully not harmed.

 

…Except he was a shivering ball on the floor.

 

Okay. Maybe he was harmed, but he wasn’t dying, at least, was he?

 

Her foot caught on a turned-over pitcher of water as she approached, and Specs coughed weakly right then, telling her exactly what had happened.

 

“Specs? Ignis?” She knelt beside him, very slowly setting a hand on his shoulder.

 

He flinched at her touch, not looking entirely coherent as he found her face.

 

She started cutting the ropes on his hands without any further delay. “Specs? Hey, it’s okay now. He’s not gonna do that to you again. Can you hear me?”

 

He blinked a few times. “I… I hear you. Yes.”

 

Well, in a near trance-like state was better than completely zoned out, at least.

 

“…Where’s Noct?”

 

Maybe this would be what he needed to snap back into focus. “Upstairs with Loqi. We need to hurry.”

 

Specs tried to lurch to his feet, but she wasn’t done with his restraints yet.

 

“Easy!” She cut through the last of the rope and helped him to his feet. “You’ve just been through a trauma – you need to take things slow!”

 

“I can’t afford to take things slowly,” he mumbled, trying to get moving. She walked with him, keeping him from falling over. “Noct needs me…”

 

“Well, he doesn’t need you like this.” She dug her fingers further into his arm as his legs wobbled.

 

He shook his head, clearly trying to get a hold of himself. “Loqi… he won’t stop… he’s lost all reason.”

 

“Yeah, I noticed.” She spared Biggs a glance as they passed him. Specs didn’t even seem to notice he was there. “Look, we’re gonna help the Prince, just let me take the lead, okay?” She pulled ahead of him, still keeping a grip on his arm as they headed for the stairs.

 

She didn’t hear a struggle from upstairs, and she wasn’t sure whether to take that as a positive or negative sign. She was nearly dragging Specs up the stairs as they climbed, somehow managing to keep her balance while keeping her lance at the ready.

 

“Noct?” Specs called, and Aranea winced at the rasp in his usually smooth voice.

 

“ _Oh, he’s here_. _”_

 

Dammit. Loqi.

 

Aranea doubled her pace, hauling Specs up the last few steps. She found Loqi as soon as they entered the room

 

His eyes were feral as he stood picture still, his knife poised to end the Prince’s life as he kept a hand around the back of his neck. Given the way the Prince’s nose was bleeding, Aranea guessed Loqi had managed to stun him with a punch to the face.

 

“Loqi,” Aranea growled. “It’s _over._ Don’t be stupid. Kill him and the King of Insomnia will have your head. You won’t gain anything by killing him now.”

 

“Perhaps not personally.” Loqi tightened his grip on the back of the Prince’s neck, making the boy’s lips part with a hiss of pain. “But I _will_ end the line of Lucis. That crippled old King can’t last for many more years. In the long run, I’ll have assured the Empire’s victory.”

 

“For Astrals’ sake, Loqi, he’s a _kid!_ ” Aranea tightened her grip on her lance with one hand while her other made sure Ignis wasn’t about to charge forwards and do something stupid.

 

Loqi laughed psychotically. “Well, I’d say he grew up quite a bit today! Besides… we all started earlier in this game, didn’t we? War tends to destroy childhoods. Why should the beloved Prince of Lucis be any different?”

 

He started to raise his knife to strike.

 

“ _Loqi,_ ” she warned.

 

“I’ll give you the information you seek!” Specs blurted out, pulling against Aranea’s hold but not breaking free. “All of it! You can pass it along to your superiors – just don’t harm him!”

 

Loqi hesitated. “Oh? Would you now? So, your true weakness divulges itself.”

 

“Perhaps.” Ignis coughed on his raspy words again. “Release him, and I’ll speak.”

 

“Yes, I’m certain you would. Right after Highwind drives her lance through my heart, no doubt.” Loqi laughed again with that on-the-edge-of-a-mental-breakdown tone. “You’re right – I have no way out. But I can take Lucis down with me.”

 

Loqi raised his knife again, right as Aranea spotted the red dot trailing over his torso.

 

Aranea expected Specs to lunge after Loqi. He didn’t. Instead, he plowed into her, shoving her with what little strength he must have had at the moment as both the windows to the arcade shattered. 

 

* * *

 

Nyx watched the scene before him with baited breath, not wanting anything he did to throw off the snipers he was now guarding. Even with them moved to a different building and the King being the only one who knew they were there, the King wanted extra protection for the Marshal and Argentum as they did their delicate work. Nyx wasn’t watching the area at the moment, though. No, he was currently relaying the play-by-play to the King as the Prince of Lucis was getting his ass handed to him by that damn Imperial. Not that the Prince ever stood a chance considering it was his first real fight and he clearly had a bullet wound in his arm.

 

Nyx winced as the Imperial landed a punch to the Prince’s face.

 

Argentum hissed. “I can’t get a clear shot – they’re moving around too much!”

 

“Stay calm. Keep trying,” the Marshal said, though he was obviously having the same problem.

 

Nyx was itching to just rush the building, but that might straight up get the Prince killed, and he was too far away anyway.

 

…Especially since the Imperial had won and was holding onto the Prince at knife point.

 

Nyx barely avoided swearing as he relayed that to the King too.

 

“ _If you get the shot, take it._ ” The King’s voice was low, probably so no one else could hear him but the three of them.

 

The Prince’s struggling ceased after a few moments, and Nyx thought the Marshal might be about to put a bullet in the Imperial’s head, but then the female mercenary burst into the arcade, her lance drawn as she kept Scientia in her grip. 

 

Nyx wanted to punch the air. Both their people in one room, and two of their captors within the sights of the snipers they didn’t even know were there. Wherever the last mercenary was, it wasn’t close enough.

 

Loqi was going to be a tough shot, though, given the angle and distance and how much of his body was covered by the Prince – Nyx could tell that without even using guns.

 

“ _Both of you, shoot as soon as you are able,_ ” the King ordered immediately upon hearing that the woman was in the room too.

 

“I-I’ve got the shot when you do, um, sir,” Argentum said, his hands surprisingly steady compared to his voice.

 

The Marshal didn’t have the shot. He was quiet for a moment, and then adjusted his aim by way more than a little. “Prompto, trade targets.”

 

“ _What?_ ” Argentum squawked.

 

“You heard me.” Cor was already taking aim at the woman instead. “You’ll have to be very precise. The target window is going to be much smaller.”

 

“Then why am _I_ the one doing it?” Argentum demanded.

 

“Because you’re a better shot than I am and I won’t jeopardize the Prince’s life any more than I have to.”

 

Holy… That was more than high praise coming from the Marshal. 

 

“Y-yes, sir…” Argentum shifted. “Finding the shot now…”

 

Nyx frowned down at the scene in the arcade. Why did it look like the mercenary and Loqi were almost facing off?

 

“I have the shot,” Argentum said shakily.

 

“Take it,” the Marshal ordered, and a second later, two gunshots split the air.

 

Nyx watched with almost a proud grin as Loqi fell away from the unharmed Prince. This kid was going to make one hell of a Crownsguar–

 

“Shit!”

 

Nyx actually flinched at the Marshal’s swearing. Oh, Astrals, what? Nyx turned his attention back to the arcade. The Marshal _never_ lost his composure like that.

 

“ _Cor? What is it?_ ” the King demanded, voice no longer hushed.

 

Nyx found the answer just as the Marshal said it.

 

“I hit Ignis.” The Marshal shoved away from his gun, pushing himself to his feet and heading for the stairs. “I repeat: Scientia is down. Medical teams into that building, _now!_ ”

 

Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit.

 

Scientia was down, all right, but Nyx very much doubted it was because the Marshal missed the shot. The mercenary was trying to stop the bleeding alongside the Prince.

 

Scientia had taken that hit for her at the last second.

 

Nyx was about to head after the Marshal when he noticed Argentum was still on his stomach on the floor, unmoving.

 

“Kid?” Nyx knelt down next to him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey, kid, it’s all right. You did great. You saved the Prince’s life. You can let go of the gun now.” He got no response, so he gently began to pry the gun from the boy’s hands. “Come on, let go… there you go…”

 

Argentum swallowed, his hands shaking now that they were free.

 

“It’s okay.” Nyx took his hands to help them stay still. “First time is… pretty difficult. But you’ll be okay. Everything is gonna be fine.” 

 

“But Iggy…” Argentum choked out.

 

Nyx helped him up. “Yeah, let’s go down and check him, okay?”

 

“Okay…”

 

Nyx put an arm around the kid’s shoulders, steering him away from the window.

 

This wasn’t over quite yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I made [another video tribute](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJRBPasNpHk/) to this wonderful game. :) Please check it out if you have time!


	22. 40.3/49

 

Noctis thought he’d felt panic before. That was nothing compared to what he felt now as he watched Ignis shove Aranea aside just in time for a bullet to nail him in the chest. Noctis barely even registered the grip on his neck vanishing and Loqi falling behind him. All he could see was the way Ignis dropped to the floor, grasping at the wound.

 

“ _Ignis!_ ” Noctis tore across the room, dropping to his knees as he slid to Ignis’ side. Aranea was already trying to stop the bleeding as she swore up a storm.

 

Ignis’ eyes were wide and pained as pressure was put on the wound, his whole body lurching at the contact. Noctis could tell he would have been screaming more if it hadn’t been lodged in his throat.

 

“He can’t afford to lose much more blood – he already lost too much yesterday with his suicide attempt!” Aranea gritted her teeth as Ignis kept moving under her hands. “Hold him!”

 

By the time Noctis did so, there were multiple sets of footsteps on the stairs – Glaives bursting into the arcade and heading straight for them. As muddled as his brain was, he still managed to blabber out some orders.

 

“Do not hurt her – she was helping us!” When the nearest Glaive hesitated and went around Aranea to get to Ignis, Noctis continued. “There’s a guy downstairs that needs help too, but Ignis already lost a lot of blood before – you gotta get him out of here now!”

 

The only female Glaive in the room barked an order for the others to stand back as the EMTs arrived.

 

“Your Highness? Your Highness, look at me.” The female Glaive took his bloodied hand in her own, guiding him away from Ignis. He wanted to resist, but he knew there was nothing he could do. The only reason they hadn’t pushed Aranea away too was because she was putting pressure on the wound and they needed her to keep doing that right then.

 

Noctis wanted to help too. Astrals, there was just so much blood already…

 

Fingers snapped in front of his face, bringing his attention fully to the Glaive holding his hand. “Highness, I need you to try and focus. How badly are you hurt?”

 

“I’m not,” he mumbled.

 

She raised an eyebrow at him, eyes on his arm.

 

He shook her hand off. “It’s fine. They already took care of it.” Well, okay, it actually still hurt like hell, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as what Ignis and Biggs and Wedge were dealing with.

 

“ _N… Noct…_ ”

 

Noctis flinched, zeroing in on Ignis, who was trying to reach out to him. He shoved past the Glaives, and they let him crouch back at Ignis’ side. Ignis grabbed onto his shirt, weakly pulling him close so only Noctis could hear. He panted in pain for a few moments, lips red with choked-up blood.

 

“Dr… Drautos… t-traitor… Lu…”

 

What? Noctis felt colder than ever before. Drautos? The Captain of the Glaive? One of his dad’s most trusted men?

 

Ignis’ grip slipped, his eyes losing their focus as his breaths turned more shallow and rapid.

 

_Six, no._

 

One of the EMTs swore. “He’s going into shock – we have to move him _now_.”

 

Noctis could do nothing but trail behind them as they loaded Ignis onto a stretcher and rushed him outside. Somewhere along the line, a Glaive placed a jacket loosely around Noct’s shoulders, and he was guided through the restaurant, one step after another, until they finally reached the door.

 

Outside was absolute chaos. So may people. So few he actually knew. But he did know the one coming towards him.

 

“Noctis!”

 

Noctis couldn’t do anything to stop the tears from running down his face as his father limped forwards and pulled him into a hug with his free arm.

 

The weight of the world felt like it was sitting on top of his lungs, and he sank into his father’s hold, sobbing into his chest. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I-I just wanted to help…”

 

His father stroked his back soothingly, staying above his previous injury from years ago. “I know… I know, my son…”

 

Six, what had he been thinking? He’d only made things so much worse for Ignis. No… maybe not. Iggy had been ready to kill himself at that point. Tried to. Maybe now at least he’d have a fighting chance? If they got him some real care soon, he could make it.

 

“ _Get your damn hands off me!_ ”

 

Noct pulled away from his dad slightly. Aranea. He’d flat out forgotten about her. He tried to steady his voice as he located Aranea being restrained by the Glaive. “Dad, don’t let them hurt her. A-and you need to make sure the other two are okay too. They didn’t want any part of this – Loqi was blackmailing them. T-they helped us as much as they could.”

 

His father’s brow was pinched, but he gave a slow nod. “Cor didn’t miss his shot, did he?”

 

Noctis shook his head weakly. “N-no. I saw it. Ignis spotted the light on her and shoved her out of the way at the last second.” He surely hadn’t meant to get hit instead, but he’d gotten her out of the way all right.

 

His father gave his shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll need to hold them, but I’ll see they aren’t harmed further.”

 

“Okay,” Noctis murmured. That was good enough for now. They could sort out the rest later.

 

His father moved away, presumably to talk to the Glaives. Noctis still felt dazed and cold and in pain, and now that this was all over, tired was getting added to that list. He just wanted to sleep for the next ten years.

 

Loqi wasn’t even dead, apparently, given the snippets he kept hearing. He had a better chance of survival than Biggs. Astrals, that was so messed up. But at least now the bastard could rot in a cell forever.

 

Noctis’ eyes drearily trailed around the area, watching what he was pretty sure was the entirely of both the Glaive and Guard running around. And… and catching sight of a familiar head of blond hair.

 

Noctis blinked. That couldn’t be right. But… it was. Prompto was here, sitting by an ambulance next to Cor and Gladio of all people and looking about as dazed as Noctis felt.

 

Noctis gave his dad a glance. He probably had time to go talk to Prompto and Gladio while his dad was still speaking with–

 

With the Glaives. Who were run by Drautos.

 

Noctis clenched his fists, his magic flowing beneath his skin. His father had moved over to talk to another Glaive with dark hair, but Drautos was still hovering nearby, looking as normal as always. Like he hadn’t caused this entire mess.

 

Gladio jogged over to him then, apparently done with whatever he was doing by Prompto. “Noct, thank the Astrals you’re oka–”

 

“You son of a bitch!” Noctis hurled his sword, warping at Drautos. The Captain barely got his own sword up in time to block him. Noctis fell back upon impact, readying his sword again. “You sold him out! You sold us _all_ out!”

 

“Noctis!”

 

His father’s voice stilled him, and the Glaive his father had been speaking with cut between Noctis and Drautos.

 

Drautos had his guard up, but he didn’t try to attack back. Yet.

 

“Okay, Your Highness, let’s take it down a few notches here,” the Glaive that had been talking to his dad said, his hand on his knife despite his words. Somehow, Noctis felt he wasn’t being completely dismissed. More like… cautiously guarded. The Glaive was really studying Noct’s expression, trying to understand.

 

Some blond Glaive slid in behind him. Wow. Okay, great. He could rat Drautos out and have an army around ready to pummel the guy. Yeah, it wasn’t every day the Prince attacked the Captain of the Glaive.

 

“It was him!” Noctis spat venomously. “He’s how Loqi got Ignis in the first place! He’s been feeding him information this whole time!”

 

The dark-haired Glaive’s expression was deadly serious, grip tight on his knife. “You’re sure it was him?”

 

“Ye–” Noctis froze as he was yanked back into the chest of the Glaive behind him.

 

Oh, Astrals. Not again. He’d just barely made it out of this position.

 

“Oh, I don’t think the Captain is the one _you_ need to worry about, _Highness,_ ” the blond Glaive sneered.

 

Noctis’ breath hitched as the cold metal of a gun barrel pressed into the right underside of his jaw.

 

“ _Luche,_ ” the dark-haired Glaive growled, but every one of the Glaive and Guard around them had frozen. “So, this whole time it was _you_.”

 

Luche’s grip was tight on Noctis’ shirt. “Right, about that, Nyx. But, to be fair, His Highness here wasn’t _wrong_ either.”

 

Noctis saw Nyx’s eyes widen in realization just before Drautos took his own hostage, his sword hovering over the Glaive’s neck.

 

“ _Captain?_ ” Nyx demanded, clearly shocked, but unable to move without cutting his own throat open.

 

Noctis wanted to scream. Luche had made everyone focus on him so that they could again have _two_ lives ready to end rather than just one. But seriously? Did they think they were getting out of this? They were way out in the open with both Guard and Glaive around, not to mention his dad, Gladio’s dad, and Cor. They were _all_ here.

 

“Try any of your warping tricks and I won’t hesitate to slit your throat, Ulric,” Drautos said darkly. “Drop the knife.”

 

Nyx did so, his eyes bright with anger and resolve or something close to that.

 

“Titus Drautos,” Noctis’ father spoke in his ‘King’ tone that Noctis used to hate when he was younger. “Surely you know our men well enough to know you’ll never succeed in leaving the city like this? You’ll end up just like your acquaintance, Loqi.”

 

“Loqi was a fool,” Drautos said. “I won’t make the same mistakes as him.”

 

Mistakes like getting yourself surrounded by every law enforcement agent in the city?

 

Nyx closed his eyes for a moment. “Your Majesty… you do what you need to do. Forget about me.”

 

Drautos made a disgusted noise. “Predicable as ever, Ulric.” He raised his free hand and slammed it into the back of his head, making the Glaive drop like a stone, unconscious. Drautos caught him, keeping his neck from connecting with the sword by yanking on the braids of his hair alone. “Luche, the car.”

 

Dammit. The car Loqi had ordered as his diversion. It was still there, ready to go. And Aranea had taken all the trackers out earlier.

 

Drautos walked back towards the car, his pace somewhat slow as he dragged Nyx along. The Glaive and Guard parted to let them through, but Noctis could feel the burning hatred in their eyes as they passed by.

 

They were all thinking it: traitors.

 

Noctis was yanked into the back of the car, Luche staying with him there as Drautos dumped Nyx in the front seat before moving around to the driver’s side himself.

 

“You can keep the mercenaries, Majesty. With any luck, they’ll sabotage you as well as they have us.”

 

“Drautos.” Noct’s father’s tone was dangerously low. “Get into that car and you will not live to see tomorrow’s sunrise. I swear that to you.”  

 

As much as Noctis would prefer not to be a hostage, he’d want to be Drautos less right then. There was no way they’d make it far. Then again, maybe this was just their only choice since Ignis found out about them. They’d known their secret was out when Noctis had confronted Drautos, and this was the only option they even had to try.

 

“I’ll take my chances.” Drautos shut the door, looking like he might actually be able to ignore all the eyes on him.

 

Noctis sucked in a breath, still feeling the metal against his jaw. Here they went again.

 


	23. 41/49

 

Gladio was on the verge of screaming and punching something. Noct was right here. Right here, and Gladio still couldn’t protect him. What kind of Shield was he, letting his Prince get taken twice?

 

Luche was dragging the Prince back and into the car. Gladio’s fingers dug into his palms. He couldn’t just stand here and let this happen, but he didn’t have a choice. If he moved now, Noct would end up with a bullet in his head. Not even Cor or his dad were willing to risk moving.

 

And then Gladio spotted _her._ The woman mercenary. With the attention of everyone on the Prince about to get his head blown off by a Glaive, she must have managed to slip free, because she was currently sneaking around the other side of the car.

 

She made eye contact with him, pressing a finger to her lips before slipping into the trunk of the car. Gladio bit his tongue. He’d vaguely heard mentions of Loqi blackmailing those mercenaries, but he still wasn’t exactly comfortable leaving Noct’s life in her hands. But… again, he didn’t have much of a choice. She might be Noct and Ulric’s best chance.

 

The former Captain of the Glaive started to drive away, and the stillness of the scene shattered.

 

The King pulled out some device from his coat. “Marshal, there is one tracker still in that car. I want the Glaive shadowing it immediately, but tell them to stay far enough back that the Captain doesn’t know they’re there.”

 

“Your Majesty!” Gladio ran over to him, dodging around the men and women in the way. “The mercenary is with them! She snuck into the truck.”

 

The King hesitated, expression deadly serious as he gave the matter thought. “Then, if Noctis was indeed correct about her allegiances, we may have just gained an advantage.”

 

“Yeah, a big one!” another Glaive piped up. “I’ve fought her, Sire. She’s _very_ good.”

 

“Clarus,” the King barked. “Find out if either of the mercenaries in our custody is willing to divulge where they’re headed – they may be willing to cooperate now that their leader appears to be.”

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis had never really felt the awkwardness of a long, quiet car ride before. Usually, if the car was quiet, he was asleep. He was not about to fall asleep with a gun pressed to his head. That was too much, even for him. At least the coldness of the gun’s touch was gone.

 

Noctis was dying to scream at Drautos and demand answers, but he kept silent. Keep quiet. Keep alive.

 

At least Ignis was safe. He could take consolation in that. Even if… oh man, Ignis would flip out if he woke up and Noctis wasn’t there. Whatever. He’d be _alive._ That was the important part.

 

A groan from the front seat nearly made Noctis jump, but then he realized it was the Glaive – Nyx Ulric was his name, right? – that was still on his side.

 

Drautos noticed, but he barely spared Nyx a glance. “Back with us already?”

 

Luche snorted. “He always did have a thick skull.”

 

Nyx’s eyes flickered around the inside of the car quickly, taking in every detail before darkening as they settled on Drautos. “You bastard.” He barked out an unamused laugh, dropping his head back against the headrest and rubbing a hand over his jaw. “How long? Or was it always?”

 

“Ah– _no._ ” Drautos reached over, yanking Nyx’s earpiece out, which Nyx had slowly been inching his hand towards. “You forgetting who trained you? Don’t try anything, Ulric. I’ll know.”

 

Nyx’s hands were clenched, but he spared Noctis’ position a glance and sat still. “You can’t actually think you’re gonna get out of here, can you, _sir?_ ” The last word was clearly meant more as an insult rather than as respectful.

 

“Do yourself a favor and shut it, will you, Nyx?” Luche snapped.

 

Nyx’s brow pulled into a frown for a second, and then he let out a real laugh. “You have no faith in this plan at all, do you?”

 

“Ulric,” Drautos warned.

 

“No, no, no, no, wait! This isn’t even a plan, is it?” Nyx laughed louder. “It’s just your only option since you got ratted out!”

 

“You don’t have to spend the rest of this ride conscious, you know,” Luche growled.

 

Nyx’s laughter died down a bit, but his shoulders still shook. “Oh, by all means – knock me back out. Yeah, it’ll be real easy for you to escape quickly while you’re dragging me along as dead weight. Go ahead. I need a nap anyway. Gotta warn you, though, _sir,_ I had a pretty big lunch.”

 

“Oh, you did not,” Luche shot back. “You had a protein bar on the run like the rest of us.”

 

“Actually, I had two. King likes me better than you. For, well, obvious reasons.”

 

Noct could almost _hear_ Luche roll his eyes. “Hardly surprising, with your amount of boot licking.”

 

“ _Boot licking?_ ” Nyx repeated incredulously. “Do you _know_ how many times I’ve been written up? Captain, back me up here. I’m pretty sure I saw ‘disruptive influence on his fellow Glaives and an encourager of disrespect for the chain of command’ on one of your reports a few months ago.”

 

“Both of you – keep your mouths shut!” Drautos ordered.

 

Nyx mouthed the words with a mocking face, then added, “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Won’t happen again, sir. Oh, and did I forget to mention what an asshole you are today, _sir?_ ”

 

Despite the situation – or maybe because of it – Noctis was having a hard time not laughing. He decided he liked Nyx a lot. If this ended with both of them alive, he was giving him a raise.

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis sucked in a breath, trying to calm himself as they crossed the bridge leading out of the city. Why were there no guards at all? Would this mean that they were out of his dad’s reach? No, that couldn’t be it. His dad would never let him go. He had to have some plan.

 

…Right?

 

Six, he needed to sleep. He was exhausted, and still in pain, thanks to his arm. He might have tried to pull on some healing magic, but he hadn’t gotten the hang of that and always got drained when he tried. If he was any more drained, he was actually going to pass out. He had actually managed to doze off in Luche’s arms a couple times already before jerking out of it, and it was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open.

 

A cold chuckle made his skin crawl, and he found Drautos looking at him via the rear-view mirror. “Don’t worry, Your Highness. You’ll have plenty of time to sleep on the flight to Gralea.”

 

“…You have a ship nearby,” Nyx muttered, as though that filled in some questions he had or something.

 

“At least those mercenaries were good for something,” Luche said.

 

“I wouldn’t get too comfortable yet,” Drautos said, checking all the mirrors again.

 

“It’s awful quiet out there.” Nyx tapped his window with a knuckle. “Almost makes you wonder where everyone is hiding out. Could be anywhere…”

 

“Ulric,” Drautos said flatly. “I’ve been working undercover in an already stressful environment for years – you’re going to have to do better than that if you’re trying to make me nervous.”

 

Nyx chuckled. “Oh, I don’t need to make you nervous, _sir._ Only an idiot wouldn’t be in these conditions, and I’d hope you’re a little smarter than that.”

 

“I look forward to breaking that attitude of yours, Nyx,” Luche sneered.

 

Nyx shot him an unimpressed look. “Yeah, because it makes a lot of sense to torture me when you’ve got the Captain of the Glaive on your side. I’m sure I’ll have _tons_ to tell that you don’t already know.”

 

“I didn’t say anything about information – I said breaking.”

 

“Oh. So, just for the hell of it, then?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“…Remind me how it is you guys claim to have superior moral ground on us?”

 

“Our cause is far more worthy than yours! We do what it takes!”

 

Noctis snorted. “Yeah, as if.”

 

Luche’s grip tightened on him, the gun barrel pushing further into his skin. “You got something to say there, Prince?”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Noctis snapped. Not like they were actually going to shoot him. They needed him right now. Hell, even if they got away, they wouldn’t kill him. He was the key to them winning their war. “I just watched your moron of an agent torture my friend and shoot a man who was only helping because he was being blackmailed with the life of his mother, so you can take your cause and shove it up your ass!”

 

Luche was quiet for just a moment. “Tummelt threatened the mercenaries’ families?”

 

Drautos grunted. “They weren’t inclined to stick with the plan. I provided Tummelt with information to make sure they did.”

 

“Son of a…” Nyx trailed off with a look of disgust. “You know, you manage to keep getting worse by the minute.”

“Then I suppose it will be a good thing we’re parting ways soon,” Drautos said, unfazed.

 

Nyx clicked his tongue. “Right. After you ditch my body, I’m sure.”

 

“Precisely.”

 

“Wait, what?” Noctis tried to sit up, but Luche kept him from doing so. “You _just_ took him hostage.”

 

Nyx shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, Highness. Like I said before, they know everything in my head, and I’m hardly as useful as you as a bargaining chip. They don’t need me once they’ve got a clear exit from the country.” Nyx shot him a grin. “I wouldn’t worry, though. Won’t come to that.”

 

As confidently as Nyx spoke, Noctis still couldn’t quite believe him. Not after everything that had happened in the last day or so. Too much had gone wrong.

 

“We’ll see,” Drautos said, resting one arm on the edge of the window as he drove. “Too bad about that misplaced dedication, Ulric. You would have been a good asset to the Empire.”

 

“Pretty sure the Empire has enough _ass_ ets without me, _sir._ ”

 

Noctis swallowed a snicker. Someone more punny than Prompto. He never thought he’d see the day.

* * *

 

 

Noctis was pretty sure if his heart beat any faster that it might actually explode like one of his magic flasks. The Imperial ship was right there, ready for them to use.

 

Drautos slid the car’s gear into park, and Noctis sent up a silent prayer.

 

_Please. Please be there, Dad._

 

But how could he be? They left ahead of him. He might be right behind them, at least. Maybe. His dad… didn’t really move quickly these days. But… he’d send someone, right? _Someone_ would be there?

 

Noctis gasped as he was roughly yanked from the car, Luche’s gun still never leaving that spot under his jaw. Nyx moved out of the car calmly on his own, but he was glaring daggers at Luche. Noctis knew Nyx would have been fighting like hell, but he wouldn’t risk Luche killing his Prince. Noctis almost wished he would fight back anyway. Anything to stop these bastards.

 

Drautos walked around to Nyx’s side, taking his arm more gently than Noctis would have expected. Then he led him away from the car _and_ ship.

 

Oh, Six. _No._

 

Drautos stopped, kicking the back of Nyx’s knee to make him kneel on the ground.

 

Nyx let out a dry laugh. “Not even gonna look me in the eye?”

 

Drautos pulled out a gun. “If it’s any consolation, this isn’t personal, Nyx. You were a good soldier, even if it was for the wrong side.”

 

“Grant a dying man his wish and spare me the bullshit, will you, Captain?” Nyx stared straight ahead, unblinking and composed.

 

Drautos didn’t seem angry. He chuckled softly, seeming almost… reluctant, and Noctis realized that Drautos actually did respect Nyx.

 

Drautos leveled the gun at the back of the Glaive’s head. “I’m sorry it came to this. You were my best man–”

 

“Captain, I _swear_ to the Six, if you shoot me with that damn thing, I will haunt your ass until the end of time.” Nyx glared over his shoulder. “If you respect me so much, at least finish me off with your own blade.”

 

Drautos regarded him thoughtfully. “You know that will hurt more.”

 

“Do I look like I give a damn?”

 

Drautos smirked faintly, putting the gun away, unsheathing his sword instead. “Very well.”

 

Nyx gave Noctis a slight smile before looking away from all of them. “Rule well, young King.”

 

Noctis scrunched his eyes shut, unable to watch. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

 

But having his eyes closed didn’t block out the sound. He couldn’t hear the actual blade sliding through skin. It wasn’t loud like in his games or movies. What he _could_ hear was the way Drautos’ sword caught on something on Nyx’s uniform. What he _could_ hear was the way Nyx’s breath hitched. The way he didn’t take another normal breath after that. The way his body thudded against the ground.

 

And then Noctis couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in his head as Luche’s gun went off.

 


	24. 42/49

 

Holding the trunk partially closed the entire ride was extremely trying on her wrist, but she managed it, staying deadly quiet the entire time. Minute after minute, until the car finally stopped. She held her breath then, listening carefully until the muffled voices were all on the right side of the car and a fair enough distance away.

 

Best chance she was going to get.

 

She was lucky this was a Lucian car. Any other type and the trunk’s hinges probably would have creaked and given her away, but the luxury car didn’t give off a sound. She slipped to the ground easily, creeping around the left side of the car and peeking over the hood to see what was going on.

 

Oh. Well, shit.

 

Loqi’s source was about to execute the loyal Glaive they’d taken hostage, and he wasn’t even fighting back at all since they had the Prince at gunpoint.

 

Aranea called her lance. If she moved now, they’d both be dead. Unless she was careful. She moved painstakingly slowly, creeping up behind the traitorous Glaive that was holding the Prince. He was distracted by the scene in front of him, and his gun dropped just a hair away from the Prince’s jaw. Her timing and move would have to be prefect, but she could do it.

 

She resisted swearing as the loyal Glaive was stabbed clean through, but she kept focused, creeping even closer. There was still a chance for him if she could just…

 

Loqi’s source withdrew his sword, leaving the Glaive crumpled and lurching with blood-laced coughs as his hands pressed into his wound. Instinct, of course. Someone that trained would know they were already gone without real medical help.

 

Or a potion.

 

Aranea lunged, swapping her lance over to her left hand and using her right to grab a hold of the traitorous Glaive’s hand and directing it away from the Prince. A shot went off, and the Prince cried out, dropping to the ground and clutching his right ear.

 

_Sorry, kid,_ Aranea sent a mental apology. A gun going off near his head was better than it going off _into_ his head. Whatever the case, the kid was out of the way, and Aranea drove her lance through the traitorous Glaive’s heart before he’d even fully registered what was happening.

 

“Stay down!” she told the Prince, though she doubted he could hear her anyway. She discarded the traitorous Glaive’s body to the ground, snagging a potion from his pocket in the process and rolling it near the loyal Glaive. He might be able to crawl his way over or not, but at least she’d given him a chance.

 

“Highwind,” Loqi’s source growled, his already blood-soaked sword pointed in her direction.

 

“Yeah, that’s me, hi.” She flipped her lance back into ready position. “And you must be the douche canoe behind this whole thing. I’ve _so_ been looking forward to kicking your ass.”

 

She didn’t give him a chance to reply, sending a blast of red energy right at him. He fell into a guarded position at the last second, and when the light cleared… he’d changed.

 

Aranea actually allowed herself a moment to blink. “ _Glauca?_ ”

 

Damn it all. Of all the operatives, him?

 

He used the pause against her, jumping at her with far more swiftness than she’d anticipated, and she fell back, barely countering his blows. A fireball struck him from behind, and Aranea spotted the loyal Glaive climbing to his feet, trails of a potion’s healing magic still wafting off his skin.

 

Great. She had backup. Except… he didn’t really have a weapon, and that fireball hadn’t made a dent.

 

They were so, _so_ dead.

 

And then something else struck the General. A wave of arching magic from the side that sent him staggering backwards under the force.

 

The thud of boots on metal drew their attention to the ship, which the Lucian Marshal was calmly exiting with a storm’s worth of fury in his eyes.

 

Ah. So there was the King’s plan. His Immortal Marshal had been hiding in the ship, waiting to ambush the Imperials and take back the Prince.

 

If Aranea had thought Glauca was fast, he had nothing on the Marshal. In a second, he had crossed the battlefield without warping and was launching a barrage of attacks on the General. With one hand, he swung his sword around, and then the other threw a dagger into the air.

 

“Ulric!”

 

The loyal Glaive grinned, stretching out his hand and then warping to the weapon in midair to attack the General from above. Now _that_ was Aranea’s style.

 

She took to the air, charging up one of her most powerful attacks and then slamming it down at the General’s feet between the attacks of her two current allies. She felt a surge of satisfaction when the wave of power made a crack in the General’s armor. Hell yeah.

 

She ducked under the General’s retaliation, trying to gain her distance back. He had the superior strength – this was not a good place to be at all.

 

He tried to strike downwards at her, but before she had time to move, an unfamiliar sword blocked the blow.

 

Well. Hello there, King’s Shield. Of course the Marshal wouldn’t be here alone. And if the Shield was nearby, then…

 

She dropped back, rolling under the multiple flying swords that were now raining on the General.

 

There was the King, standing by his son’s crumpled form on the ground with at least six Glaives that were hanging back. Smart plan. Any more people in this fight and they were going to start hitting each other.

 

The General shifted tactics, obviously knowing he wasn’t going to win with these odds. He charged the Shield alone, driving him back towards… oh, dammit, why had she thought parking near a ravine was a good idea?

 

Just as they were about to go over, the Shield caught onto Glauca and shifted their weight so the General went over first.

 

Aranea didn’t waste any time, running to the edge.

 

“You got my other dagger?” Ulric yelled, running right behind her.

 

“Yes!” the Marshal said.

 

“Good!”

 

The three of them jumped into the ravine, and out of the corner of her eye, Aranea could see Ulric warping the Marshal with him as they descended.

 

Aranea sent another blast of red energy as soon as she landed, buying the Shield time, as he was about to be impaled while he was grappling with the General.

 

Ulric warped into the General, tackling him off the Shield as the Marshal slid in to help the Shield to his feet. The three of them rushed forwards to aid Ulric, swarming the General from all sides and doing anything they could to put more cracks in that armor.

 

It was working. The armor was chipping. He just couldn’t keep up with them all at the same time.

 

“Payback is a bitch, Glauca!” Aranea’s lance hit in the right place, chipping the armor further.

 

“Yeah.” Nyx warped to the General’s other side. “What she said, _Captain._ ”

 

The General shoved back with a particularly strong strike, knocking all of them but the Marshal off their feet, who was still standing just barely. He didn’t have enough time to recover as the General struck at him again, forcing his sword from his hands.

 

Aranea shook her head, trying to pull herself to her feet.

 

Glauca grabbed the Marshal by his throat, hauling him up. The Marshal’s hand scrambled for purchase on something in his coat before digging what Aranea assumed was Ulric’s second dagger into Glauca’s arm between the crack in that part of the armor. Instantly, Ulric was there, digging the dagger further in before he was swatted off. The Marshal was back on the ground, but Glauca loomed over him, about to make a strike that would be fatal if it landed.

 

Aranea staggered into her stance, switching her lance around so she could hurl it. There was a weak spot in that chest armor now. All she had to do was land the– 

 

Blue magic flared as yet another sword appeared. A sword that had found its mark in that weak spot.

 

The Prince blinked into place as the hit knocked Glauca onto his back with the Prince on top of him. The Prince’s cry of rage was so feral, Aranea barely recognized it as belonging to the boy. He yanked his sword free, only to drive it in again. Aranea winced. That was a fatal hit if she’d ever seen one.

 

The General’s breaths spoke of fluid in his lungs, and they were very weak. He didn’t have long.

 

Still, the Prince remained where he was, his hands trembling like leaves even with the grip he had on his sword. “That was for Ignis, you bastard.” His words came out far less intense than she knew he wanted, but that wasn’t surprising since he looked on the verge of cracking.

 

The Marshal was the one that approached the Prince, still keeping a wary eye on Glauca but sheathing his weapon. “Noctis…” He gently set a hand on the boy’s shoulder, not pulling back when the Prince flinched slightly.

 

The Prince stayed where he was for a few more moments, but then he released the sword, letting it vanish as he dissolved into a sobbing mess. The Marshal didn’t say anything else. He just let the boy hold onto him as he pulled him away from the scene. The King’s Shield hovered close to them.

 

Ulric wandered over, kneeling down by the General. Unlike the Prince, his gaze was one of pity and sadness. He felt around the General’s neck until he was able to pry the helmet off. Glauca watched Ulric as the Glaive placed Glauca’s dropped sword into his hand and then crossed both of his arms over his chest.

 

Ulric gave him a dry smile that lacked all humor. “You were a good soldier, Captain. Even if it was for the wrong side.”

 

The corner of Glauca’s lips twisted into a very slight smirk as he rasped out, “Grant a dying man his wish and spare me the bullshit, will you, Ulric?”

 

Ulric dropped his head, a faint chuckle shaking his shoulders before he looked up with a more sober expression. He reached for his dagger. “I’ll make it quick.”

 

The General’s nod was so small that Aranea almost missed it, and then he closed his eyes.

 

Ulric’s precision was spot on, and Glauca fell completely still. The Glaive sat there for a moment, and Aranea felt she was intruding, so she turned her attention back to the Marshal, Shield, and Prince. Clearly, the Prince was still somewhat unhinged, clutching his head and curled into almost a ball.

 

The footsteps behind her told her Ulric was done with whatever it was he was doing. She turned, finding him with his lips pressed into a thin line as he still had his dagger in hand.

 

Right. She was still a prisoner. Even though it was clear Ulric wasn’t too thrilled about arresting her.

 

Aranea sighed, lowering herself into a lackluster fighting stance. “Just do your damn job.”

“No! Leave her alone!” They both snapped their heads towards the Prince, whose wild, panicked gaze was locked onto them. “T-that’s an order!”

 

Ulric sheathed his dagger. “Yes, Your Highness.”

 

“Highness, we still need to take her in for question–” Cor objected.

 

“ _Get out of here,_ ” the Prince yelled, not seeming to have heard the Marshal. “Just go!” His face scrunched up in obvious pain, and he pressed a hand to his ear.

 

Aranea ran.

* * *

 

 

Nyx watched as the mercenary ran off. It may have been a brash move on the Prince’s part, but Nyx couldn’t say he disagreed with it. The woman had saved his life, after all. And the Prince’s and Scientia’s, probably.

 

Whatever the case, the choice had been made, and Nyx had bigger things to worry about. Like how the Prince was clutching his _bleeding_ ear as he struggled to walk in a straight line as they climbed the slopes of the ravine. Even with the Marshal having an arm around him, his steps were unsteady.

 

“Highness, how bad is that?” Nyx finally asked.

 

He got no reply.

 

“Highness?”

 

Nothing. The Prince kept walking with his back turned to Nyx like… like he couldn’t even hear him.

 

The Marshal scowled. “Highness? _Highness._ ”

 

Finally, the Prince blinked at him, seeming to have heard the last, louder call for his attention.

 

“Yeah?” the Prince mumbled exhaustedly.

 

Cor stopped him, gripping both his shoulders and turning him to face him full on. “How well can you hear my voice?”

 

“…Not too good,” the Prince admitted. “My head’s kind of roaring at me… But I’ll be fine.”

 

Cor didn’t say anything. Neither did Nyx, who’d been so hoping he was wrong.

 

The Prince frowned at their expressions. “…What? I… I’ll be fine, right? …Right?”

 

Cor tried to get moving again. “Let’s get you some medical care.”

 

“Cor… this is gonna go away, isn’t it?”

 

The Prince’s shaking, cracking voice was like a physical blow to Nyx. The poor kid had only just gotten a hold of himself enough to walk in the first place.

 

“Hard to tell,” Cor said.

 

“What?” Noctis asked.

 

“ _Hard to tell,_ ” Cor repeated, louder. “We won’t know for sure until we get you some help.”

 

The Prince’s ashen skin made it look like he might be about to get sick any second. He didn’t. Instead, his eyelids fluttered and he collapsed into the Marshal’s arms, unconscious.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shuffles papers around* 
> 
> Okay, guys, while Noct and Iggy are both passed out, I’d like to take this time to show you the game plan for this fic’s universe so you know what to expect. There are no longer two sequels, but three since writing is an untamable beast I cannot control. At current, the future is…
> 
> 1\. There are three chapters remaining in 49 Hours. 
> 
> 2\. The first sequel is Hours Until Dawn. Will take place nearly right after 49’s last chapter and focuses Noct getting Ignis to a play video game in an attempt to relax after all their trauma (Because horror games are SO relaxing). Humor/Angst combo. It’s finished. Has around 20k and has 8 chapters.
> 
> 3\. The 43rd Hour. Not exactly a sequel, but an addition. One-shot written by my beta and focuses on Nyx. Not done quite yet.
> 
> 4\. Second sequel is The Hours Between. Mini chapters/stories that take place in the three years after 49 and Hours Until Dawn, but before the start of the main game. Angst/Fluff/Humor/Etc. Not finished, but shouldn’t be too long.
> 
> 5.The third Sequel is Hours of Haunting. Take place during the actual game and focuses on the boys and Aranea dealing with the small matter of Loqi having escaped from custody in Insomnia during the Imperial attack. Angst/Fluff/Humor/Friendship/Romance/Action, the whole shebang. Will be longer than the others. Not finished. 
> 
> All righty! I think that does it! Message me if you guys have got any questions! :)


	25. 46-49/49

The first thing Ignis noticed when he awoke was the harsh, bright lights that were drilling into his skull. The second was that he was in a bed, and someone was definitely holding his hand.

 

Ignis found it more difficult than he’d expected to drag his eyelids open. A sedative, perhaps? Why would he have needed–

 

The sniper light. Aranea. He’d tried to push her out of the way.

 

Oh. He’d been shot. Yes, he remembered now. He’d been in the restaurant still, last he remembered. Noct. He’d been trying to warn Noct about Drautos and Luche. Had he been successful? Where was Noct now? He was all right, wasn’t he?

 

Slowly, Ignis let his sensitive eyes adjust as they trailed down his blanket-covered torso. He couldn’t see a wound or bandages, but his gaze stopped on the hand that was clutching his own. Its owner was asleep, leaning in a very uncomfortable-looking position on the edge of the bed.

 

Ignis cleared his throat, speaking softly. “Uncle?”

 

His uncle jerked awake. “Ignis? Oh, thank the Six.” He tightened his grip on Ignis’ hand. “We were so close to losing you.”

 

Ignis looked over himself again, shivering in the chill of the room. “I admit, I thought you might have as well.” Six, he was still so tired.

 

His uncle brushed some of his hair back away from what had been his injured eye. “You should get some more rest.”

 

Yes. That seemed like a good idea. He had many questions, but they could wait. All but one, that was. “How is Noct?”

 

His uncle hesitated. “He’s alive. Safe and sound.”

 

Ignis frowned. What was with that tone? “But?”

 

His uncle scratched the back of his neck, obviously not wanting to answer the question. “His head was rather close to a gun when it went off. There’s… a possibility of hearing loss, but we won’t know for certain for a while. Get some rest. I’ll let you know.”

 

Hearing loss? Astrals, no… After everything Noct had already been through – losing his legs for a while as a child, and now this entire affair – hadn’t he lost enough of his youth?

 

“Rest, Ignis. It’s over.”

 

Over.

 

No matter how much his thoughts ran, he couldn’t fight against the pull of sleep much longer, and he drifted off.

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis sat quietly in his hospital bed, reclined on several pillows as he absently tapped away on his mobile game. It was a brainless game, one of those one-out-of-a-billion games where you swapped the places of things to gets rows of stuff that would blow up. He would have preferred King’s Knight, but that took too much focus. He kept dying.

 

He didn’t want to die anymore.

 

It was almost therapeutic, in a way. The blurring of the colors as the levels passed by. Surprisingly calming, considering the circumstances. Not to mention things were rather quiet for him at the moment.

 

He was feeling a lot better than he had when he’d passed out before. But he also felt… distant. Detached. He knew the events of the last day or so had happened to him, but he was having a hard time connecting that it had happened to him. He didn’t want to think about it, and no one had come to see him since he’d woken up. It was almost nice. Cozy. And just so quiet. Apart from the constant hum in his right ear, that was. That didn’t seem to be going away. Yet.

 

The black material of a familiar coat stepped into his peripheral vision, and he dropped his phone in surprise. He hadn’t heard his dad come in, but he was so glad he was here.

 

“Hi, Dad,” he mumbled, unsure of the strength of his own voice at the moment.

 

He father observed him for a moment, circling around to the left side of the bed. Good. He could still hear pretty well on that side.

 

His father’s hand was gentle as he rested it on Noctis’ shoulder. “It’s good to see you awake, son. How do you feel?”

 

“Tired,” Noctis replied instantly.

 

His father chuckled lightly. “I suppose some things never change.”

 

Noctis tried to smile, but he knew it looked forced. “Iggy’s okay, isn’t he?”

 

He nodded. “Yes. Thank the Astrals. We almost lost him, but he pulled through. He asked about you and then fell asleep again not long ago.”

 

Noctis toyed with the edge of the blanket that was over his lower half and rubbed at his ear.

 

“Does it still hurt?” His father tried to hide his grimace, but he caught it just in time.

Noctis nodded. “A bit. Dad… how bad is it?”

 

His father’s grip tightened slightly on his shoulder. “In many ways, you were fortunate as well. From what they’ve told me, your left ear will be fine.”

 

His _left_ ear.

 

“But…?” Astrals, did he even want to know?

 

“Give how the injury has responded to treatment… Noctis, there’s a very real chance that you will never regain full use of your right ear.”

 

Noctis swallowed. No… there had to be _something._ “Not even… Is there nothing we can do with magic?”

 

He could see the sorrow in his father’s eyes as he shook his head. “In this case… the wounds were too delicate and left without treatment for too long.”

 

Noctis closed his eyes, feeling the moisture pooling in the corners. Too long. He’d pushed away from his father to join the fight earlier. And then he’d passed out on the way out of the ravine. It must have taken them a while to get out with someone carrying him. And while he didn’t remember everything he’d learned in school, he did know the ears _were_ very delicate.

 

Six, he just wanted to forget any of this had ever happened, and now he was going to have to live with a daily reminder. And Iggy… Astrals, he was going to have it even worse after all the crap he went through.

 

The bed gave beneath Noctis’ father’s weight as he placed his other hand on Noct’s other shoulder. “Noctis, I know that it will probably be some while before you wish to talk about what happened, if ever. But know that I am here for you if that time comes. Or, if you prefer it and think it would be easier, I can arrange for you to speak with someone else.”

 

Noctis leaned his head into his father’s chest. “I… just want to go home. And I want to see Ignis.”

 

“That I can grant.” His father trailed a hand down his back. “I believe you two spending some time with each other would do you well. Ignis shouldn’t be alone any more than you. What would you say to him staying over at your apartment for a few days?”

 

Noctis nodded. Yeah. Iggy would like that too, he knew. Ignis really didn’t have a homely apartment. He probably would feel better in the familiar atmosphere of Noctis’ apartment. Yes, definitely. But there was still something else he needed to know.

 

“Are Biggs and Wedge being treated okay?”

 

There was a pause. “You mean the two mercenaries in custody?”

 

“Yeah… They were nice… I don’t want them hurt…”

 

The King sighed. “You know I cannot simply let them go as you did their comrade?”

 

“Yeah, but… they can’t give us anything anyway. Just… don’t be too hard on them? Please?”

 

“Do not worry, son, they’ll be granted leniency. You need only focus on yourself.”

 

“Okay…” he mumbled. But he couldn’t shake the thought. Those two didn’t deserve to be imprisoned for what Loqi and those traitors did.

He had to do _something._

 

But… not now… He just couldn’t right now. He needed to sleep in his own bed and sort out the mess in his mind first. And he needed to see Ignis. The last image he still had in his head was Ignis’ pale and pained face as his awareness started to fade.

 

He wanted that image to go away, even though he knew it wouldn’t. But maybe… maybe it would at least get better if it wasn’t his _latest_ memory of his friend.

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis knew the King had ordered his release. He wouldn’t have been let go this soon under any circumstances but that, and now he was being driven to Noct’s apartment by Cor himself. Ignis pretended not to notice the Marshal checking on him via the rear-view mirror.

 

He was composed. Actually, given what he’d been through in the last two days, he thought he was handling things rather well. Now that he knew Noctis was all right, all he truly wanted to do was sleep. Stitched him back up, those potions had, but he’d still suffered from blood loss, lack of true rest, and… various other traumas.  

 

For once, his duties were the last thing on his mind. He’d done his duty, as a Crownsguard and as a friend. He would return to work when he could preform work that was actually beneficial. Until then, he was going to deal with his personal situation.

 

He was thankful to the King for thinking to let him and Noct stay together. As much as he’d deny it, he… he could use the company of another human being rather than the silence of his apartment, especially if that human being was Noct. He’d never fully be able to turn off his caring instincts for his younger friend. The close company would be mutually supportive. Plus, Noct was one of the few people he knew he could spend multiple hours of silence with and not feel the slightest bit of awkwardness.

 

The Marshal was also someone who wasn’t keen on filling silence with idle chitchat, and normally that was what Ignis might prefer, but not as they entered the parking garage.

 

It was night. Only one hour after when he’d originally been taken two days ago.

 

He swallowed back the nauseated feeling creeping up his throat, only just resisting the urge to fidget and check every shadow around them. He flinched as the Marshal laid a hand on his back.

 

“At ease,” the Marshal muttered softly.

 

Perhaps he hadn’t been hiding his anxiety quite as well as he thought, or maybe it was just the Marshal’s astute observations. Either way, he was thankful for the grounding point.

 

“I’m fine, Marshal, thank you.”

 

The Marshal scoffed. “I doubt that, but I’ll let you figure things out on your own or with the Prince. He should be here in the morning.”

 

Ignis zoned out for the most part once they were out of the garage. He knew his way to Noct’s apartment well enough that he didn’t truly have to think about where he was going. It wasn’t until he stopped inside Noct’s apartment to take off his shoes that he realized they’d arrived.

 

“Get some more rest, kid. You’ve earned it.”

 

Ignis was too tired to protest that he wasn’t a child. Instead, he gave the Marshal a brief thanks and farewell before heading directly for Noct’s guest room. The sheets needed washing and smelled like what he recognized as Prompto, but he didn’t care. If anything, that was another comfort just due to the familiarity. He burrowed under the covers, absently noting that he was still in his clothes that had been brought to him at the hospital from his own apparent. He didn’t have anything else at the moment – a Glaive was supposed to drop by with a bag for him later – so he tried to ignore the rougher texture of the non-sleep clothes. It wasn’t difficult, considering how fast he was fading.

 

He rolled onto his back and took deep breaths.

 

Just… kept breathing as he tugged his glasses off and set them on the nightstand.

 

Home.

 

Safety.

 

He could be at ease.

 

It was over. It was truly, officially over.

 

Ignis let his eyes slide over to the clock.

 

Eleven P.M. Twenty-three hundred hours. Forty-nine hours since this all had begun.

 

It felt like so much longer.

 

He stopped fighting the pull on his eyelids.

 

His last thoughts before drifting off during the twenty-third hour of the day were a silent prayer for a dreamless sleep.

 


	26. Loose Ends

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

Noctis startled from his doze and reached for his phone, which he must have dropped when he fell asleep.

 

**Prompto:** Hey pretty boy. Feeling better?

 

Noctis frowned, remembering back to how he’d tossed Prompto’s phone aside in that alley. How had Aranea gotten her hands on it? Wouldn’t the Glaive have picked it up?

 

Mentally shrugging, he typed out a reply.

 

**Noctis:** Not really. Biggs and Wedge are okay, btw. Gonna see if I can find a way to get them out.

 

**Prompto:** Thanks, kid. Already working on that from my end too. How’s Specs holding up?

 

Noctis’ thumbs hovered above the keys for a few seconds. He wished he knew how Ignis was doing, but the doctors were still doing tests on him, and he was pretty sure it would still be a few more hours before he got to go home.

 

**Noctis:** He’s alive. I haven’t seen him yet, but Dad told me he’s pretty much just been sleeping.

 

**Prompto:** Keep an eye on him for a while. Something tells me he’s not the type to ask for help even when he really needs it.

 

Noctis smiled. Yeah, that was pretty accurate.

 

**Noctis:** ESPECIALLY when he needs it.

 

Noctis yawned. Speaking of sleep…

 

Wait a minute. _Sleep._

 

**Noctis:** Would you happen to have access to some clorophorm?

 

**Prompto:** …why the hell do you need chloroform? I thought he was already sleeping?

 

**Noctis:** Not for Iggy. For whoever is guarding Biggs and Wedge.

 

**Prompto:** are you serious?

 

**Noctis:** They’ll never see it coming from me.

 

**Prompto:** You rebel.  <Smiling Imp Emoji>

 

**Prompto:** Where do you want to meet and when?

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis squinted at the lips of the woman to his right. While he wasn’t totally sure he’d gotten every word she’d said up to that point, he’d gotten the gist of it. Maybe. He really wasn’t good at lipreading, but being able to hear some of what she said and having the context had helped him a lot.

 

So he was pretty confident that his dad was going to be over to his apartment to check on how he was in a few hours. He suddenly felt the irrational urge to go clean up, and then realized that, firstly, his dad wouldn’t even care after everything that had happened, and, secondly, Ignis probably would have already stress-cleaned everything up anyway.

 

“Have a good day, Your Highness,” the nurse said, having walked him to the front doors of the hospital. “Your escort is outside.”

 

“Yeah. Thanks.” Noctis tugged the brim of his hat down a bit and shoved his hands in his pockets. He’d told his dad he’d wanted this outfit from his apartment because it was comfortable. That was true, but it was also something the Glaive and Guard wouldn’t recognize him in if they weren’t looking too hard.

 

He walked straight past the redheaded Glaive waiting for him, sprinting as soon as he turned the corner. It would only be so long before they noticed he was gone, and while the note he’d left would keep his dad from thinking he’d been kidnapped again, he doubted his dad was going to just sit by and let him run around the city after everything that went down.

 

To be totally honest, Noct didn’t even want to be out around the city. Especially not while his _left_ ear was still muffled too. Supposedly, that was going to return to normal, but right now it was still creeping him out. He’d never realized how much he’d actually learned from Gladio’s lessons on paying attention to his surroundings until now.

 

He couldn’t _hear_ anything that might be a threat, and after the last couple days… The lack of one of his primary senses would have been bad enough without him being paranoid as hell.

 

His heart was pulsing widely in his chest by the time he sprinted across the street to Ignis’ favorite lunch restaurant. It was a small family-run corner shop that Noctis was pretty sure Ignis had stolen every recipe from by this point. The staff all knew Ignis by name, and they were some of the few people his friend actually enjoyed speaking with just for the sake of speaking with them. Somewhere familiar.

 

He slipped in the door, taking a seat near the back and sucking in a few calming breaths. It wasn’t long before the waitress – the owner’s daughter, Lilias – cheerfully approached him, chirping, “Good morning!”

 

It took her all of two seconds to recognize him. “Oh my gosh!” Her eyes bulged out, and she lowered her voice for what she said next.

 

Noctis double blinked. He hadn’t been able to hear a word of that. He was pretty sure from watching her lips that there was a ‘highness’ in there, and ‘Ignis’. Her expression was definitely questioning.

 

Okay. Okay, okay. Right. Ignis had been all over the news. She was probably asking to see how he was.

 

“Um, Ignis is alive. Recovering.”

 

Her expression fell into one of relief, but he had absolutely no hope of figuring out her next whisper.

 

“I… um… I’m sorry, I can’t…” He gestured to his ear. “There was–”

 

Noctis recoiled, nearly falling out of his chair as a hand landed on his shoulder.

 

Aranea jumped back, hands in the air in a pacifying gesture, and he sagged in relief.

 

“Easy there, Pretty Boy!” She frowned as she took the seat next to him. She glanced at Lilias and then back to him. “You buying?”

 

Noctis rolled his eyes. Good thing he had his wallet on him. “Yeah, sure…” Six, talking felt so weird. He didn’t want to yell at everyone, but he couldn’t even hear his own voice if he talked too low.

 

Aranea gave Lilias a smile. “Coffee and a tuna melt, please.”

 

Lilias scribbled that down before looking to Noctis. He shook his head.

 

“Kid, you need to eat,” Aranea chided. “Get him a tuna melt too.”

 

Noctis rolled his eyes again. No wonder she and Ignis had gotten along. At least she’d picked something without too many vegetables in it. He could pick off the lettuce easy enough.

 

He conceded to the order with a nod, and Lilias reluctantly left the table.

 

Aranea’s gaze was instantly scrutinizing him. “Other than the obvious, what’s wrong with you?”

 

Noctis picked at a loose piece of wood on the table, gesturing to his ear again. “Everything’s… muted.”

 

Her face paled. “Permanent?”

 

He shrugged. “Some of it? They weren’t… totally sure what all I’ll get back.”

 

For the first time that he’d seen, the mercenary actually seemed off guard. “I thought they’d be able to fix that with magic.”

 

He let go of the wooden shard he’d been peeling up. “Took too long. Parts are too delicate.”

 

“I… shit, kid, I am so sorry…” The guilt in her eyes was clear. “I was trying to keep him from shooting you–”

 

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, though he definitely couldn’t hear it himself. He hoped he didn’t sound too weird. “You saved my life, and Nyx Ulric’s. I don’t blame you for… this.”

 

She still looked guilty, but shook her head. “Okay… so, what’s the plan for getting Biggs and Wedge out?”

 

Good. The reason they were here. “Easy. Chloroform for the guard and I let them out. No one gets hurt, though I’ll probably get grounded until I’m thirty.”

 

“You sure you wanna do that?”

 

“Yeah. I am.”

 

It was a small price to pay for the people that had kept him and Ignis alive.

* * *

 

 

Pelna had been given plenty of hard assignments during his time with the Glaive, but not cracking up while guarding these mercenaries had to take the cake. Normally, the regular guard would be on duty here, but, well, these two were getting special treatment, it seemed. Not that Pelna wasn’t over the moon about the fact the King had personally selected him for this and told him it was because he wanted someone that he could really trust. The job probably would have gone to Nyx, but he was on leave for the next few days. Under order, of course, or he still would have been here.

 

Still, that one mercenary – he was pretty sure that it was Biggs – was clearly trying to pass the time, and there had been a lot of horrible puns and bad jokes. Honestly, Pelna almost felt bad that he’d nearly killed one of them.

 

“I saw that twitch of a smile! I’m gonna get you to break that stone face yet!” the mercenary yelled to him.

 

Pelna smiled inwardly instead. This was actually kind of nice since there had been so much stress and… death in the last couple days.

 

Six, Luche and the Captain. Pelna had respected them both. _Trusted_ them both. He hadn’t even had time to process them being traitors before they were dead.

 

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Pelna frowned at the approaching figure. Was that…?

 

“Your Highness?”

 

What on Eos was the Prince doing here in the first place, let alone in civilian clothes?

 

“Hi.” The Prince looked awkward as he stopped in front of him. “Um, Pelna, right?”

 

Pelna nodded. “Yes, Highness.”

 

The Prince scratched the back of his head, the other hand shoved into his pocket. “Yeah, um, I need to speak to them.”

 

Without the King’s orders being sent down? Very strange, but this was the Prince. He had to comply, even if it was odd.

 

“Of course, Highness.”

 

He’d just turned his back to the Prince to unlock the door when the cloth was clamped over the lower half of his face.

 

What. The. Hell.

 

* * *

 

 

Gladio winced as the King violently shoved open the door to the restaurant Noct’s debit card had been used in. What the hell was Noct thinking, running off to _eat_ of all things after everything that had just happened? Seriously, he couldn’t be that stupid. They could have delivered the lunch to his apartment. This had to have something to do with the fact that he’d bought two sandwiches. Who had the other one been for?

 

The waitress jumped, and Gladio felt sorry for her. She’d always been very nice to them.

 

“Y-your Majesty… Gladio… Um, madam Glaive…” Lilias bowed slightly.

 

“Lilias, hey, where is he?” Gladio didn’t even bother to specify.

 

“Uh… He and the woman he was with left a little while ago.” She tapped her pen on her notebook nervously.

 

“Woman?” the female Glaive on the King’s right asked.

 

The King sighed. “He came to meet with the last mercenary.”

 

“But why?” Gladio couldn’t help asking.

 

“Because he’s trying to free the other two mercenaries.” The King sounded like he was just piecing it together himself. “Altius, contact Khara and check on his status.”

 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

 

“You seriously think he’d try to break them out?” Gladio was so confused. He knew that woman mercenary had helped take down Drautos, but were the other two really that trapped during the whole event like Gladio had heard rumors of? Was Noct helping the woman get her men back because he thought he owed her, or did he really actually want the men freed?

 

Gladio kept mulling over everything he knew as they headed back out to the car. His thoughts were interrupted, though, by the Glaive swearing.

 

“No answer from Pelna, Majesty.”

 

The King calmly climbed into the car, buckled his seatbelt, and ordered the driver to floor it.

 

Noct was _so_ grounded, that much Gladio knew. This entire event had probably taken years off the King’s life, and he was _not_ in a good mood.

 

With the law-breaking speed of the car, it didn’t take them long to get back to the Citadel, and the King’s pace to the holding area was faster than Gladio had seen him move in years.

 

Gladio almost ran into him as he abruptly stopped with a sigh.

 

Well, there was their Glaive. On the floor. Unconscious.

 

The female Glaive knelt down and started tapping his face. “Pelna. _Pelna._ ”

 

The Glaive blearily opened his eyes. “Crowe?”

 

“Care to tell us why you’re on the floor?” Crowe asked.

 

Pelna looked up at the King, seeming ashamed. “…Would any of you believe me if I said the Prince drugged me?”

 

The King sighed again. Loudly. “Yes…”

 

* * *

 

 

The King sent out a couple of Glaives to look for the mercenaries, but it was clearly a half-assed effort. The next couple hours passed with them all standing or pacing outside the Citadel in the frigid morning air.

 

Gladio tried to keep his teeth from chattering. It was so damn cold out here. He was going to kill Noct himself just for this.

 

And there he was, walking up to the Citadel with his hands shoved in his pockets and his head down.

 

“Hey...” he muttered, stopping in front of his dad. “So… grounded until I’m thirty?”

 

“ _Forty,_ ” the King growled. He rested heavily on his cane. “But we’ll discuss this at a later time. I want you to go directly home. Now.”

 

Noct nodded. “No complaints here.”

 

“There had better not be.” The King gestured to Crowe. “See that’s where he goes. And _stays_.”

 

“Yes, Majesty.” She looked like she was trying not to laugh.

 

* * *

 

 

“You don’t actually have to follow me to the door, you know,” Noctis said as they rode in the elevator up to his apartment. “I really do want to sleep and eat.”

 

The Glaive raised an eyebrow to that. “You’ve caused a bit of a ruckus, Highness. I’m pretty sure the King wants me to make absolutely sure you get there. Once we’re there, I’ll leave you in Scientia’s hands.”

 

True to her word, the Glaive paused in the elevator and stuck her arm out so the doors wouldn’t close. She stayed there, watching him as he went down the hall to his door. He gave her a mock dramatic bow as he entered the room.

 

Now he could finally see Ignis. Astrals, he’d probably worried him further by not showing up when he was supposed to… He should have called or something.

 

Noctis kicked off his shoes, wondering if he should call out. Ignis might still be sleeping. Maybe he hadn’t even noticed Noctis was late.

 

Noctis trudged forwards, hearing his shower running when he got closer. Oh, that’s what Iggy was up to.

 

Good. Iggy needed to relax. Noctis plopped onto his couch, closing his eyes. For all he cared, Ignis could use up all the hot water, just so long as–

 

Noctis’ eyes shot back open. Even with his muffled hearing, the blood-curdling scream from the bathroom was horrifically loud.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang it, these fingers keep slipping...


	27. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, guys! We made it!

When Ignis awoke, he was thirsty and had an absolutely horrific pounding in his head. A soft groan made its way from his mouth, and he pressed his palms into his eyelids.

 

Caffeine headache, he realized. He’d been too long without an Ebony.

 

Realizing that he’d get no further rest like this, he peeled back the covers and slid out of bed. He left his glasses on the nightstand for the time being. So long as he didn’t try to focus, the slight blur of the room damped the throbbing of his head a bit.

 

He groggily made his way to the kitchen, heading directly for the cabinet where he kept his stash of Ebony for when he was over. One cup would not suffice today.

 

His body was on autopilot as he set the pot to brew, and he leaned against the counter as he waited. It would be some while. Perhaps he could do something else in the meantime.

 

A greasy strand of hair fell in his eyes just then. Ah. Yes. He hadn’t exactly had time to bathe given the events of late. That was the first order of business, then. Perhaps it could take the edge off of his pain while he waited as well.

 

He found the bag of clothes that must have been delivered while he was still asleep. Given the attire within the bag, Ignis guessed that Gladio was the one to pick them out – casual enough to be comfortable, but not the overly casual attire that Prompto favored that Ignis didn’t care for.

 

Ignis took the bag into the bathroom with him, setting it where it wouldn’t get wet before he turned the tap on. He retracted his hand slightly from the water. He felt childish being so reluctant to be near it, even if he did have reason to be wary.

 

He tried to shake off the feeling, swiftly discarding the wrinkled clothes he’d slept in before he tested the water’s temperature with his hand. Warm. A friendly warm that was nothing like the water that Loqi had…

 

A shiver washed over him. Best get this over with as quickly as possible.

 

He closed his eyes as he stepped into the shower, forcing his face into the stream.

 

He’d never made a greater mistake in his life.

 

Ignis gasped, unable to move as Loqi’s face appeared before him.

 

“ _Give me the information, Scientia!_ ”

 

_No. No, no, no, never._

 

Ignis tried to reply – tried to snap back that he’d never tell him – but his mouth was full. Astrals, his mouth, his nose, his _eyes_ even – all caught beneath the never-ending torrent. He gagged and choked, wanting desperately to fight back, but his hands were tied. Loqi’s weight was crushing on his chest, making his wrists dig painfully into the groves of the tiled floor of the restaurant’s kitchen.

 

“ _Give me the information!”_

 

He wouldn’t. He would protect Noct. He would never betray him.

 

Six, he couldn’t breathe. The water kept… it… _pain_. Pain, _pain, pain_. Nothing was safe. His chest heaved, the world seeming to tilt around him as he tried to fight the intense feeling of vertigo flooding his mind like the water that had taken its icy grip in his lungs.

 

He screamed. He wasn’t even sure where he’d found the air for it, but he was screaming.

 

It wasn’t loud enough. He could still hear the water.

 

_Six,_ just stop! Stop this all, _please!_

 

Stopitstopitstopit.

 

Help me…

 

“Ignis! _Ignis!_ ”

 

Stop the pain, stop the water…

 

Cold. Wet.

 

A warm set of hands on his shoulders.

 

Ignis twisted away.

 

No, no more being held down!

 

A single touch fell on his chest again.

 

“Hey… hey, Ignis… come on… Please come back. Listen to me. Breathe with me if you can, okay?”

 

Breathe? How could he breathe? The water… He choked.

 

He needed…

 

He…

 

Breathe.

 

* * *

 

 

If he’d thought anything in the last day or so had been disturbing, it had nothing on watching Ignis having some sort of freak out-breakdown in the corner of Noctis’s shower. He might have cracked himself if he hadn’t been so focused on getting Ignis to calm the hell down.

 

The screams had stopped. Instead, Ignis was now soaking Noctis’ shirt as he curled into him, shivering uncontrollably in nothing more than the towel Noctis had tossed on him to at least let him keep _some_ dignity.

 

Noctis leaned his head back against the wall, falling asleep to the sound of Ignis synchronizing his breaths to his own. He had no idea how long they’d been there.

 

“…Noct?”

 

Noctis flinched awake, finding Ignis’ pulse to be mostly normal. “Ignis… Six, Iggy, you scared the hell out of me. Are you okay?” He could practically feel the confusion radiating from the man.

 

Ignis gently pulled away, face flushing as he saw the position he was in. “What… happened, exactly? From your eyes.”

 

Noctis licked his lips. “I… you were just screaming when I found you. Must have been–”

 

“…The water.” Ignis absently trailed his eyes over the remaining wet spots on the shower floor. “Yes… that was what… triggered the attack.” He shivered again.

 

“…Let’s get you up and dressed, okay?” Noctis was already on the move. “We can go to the couch, and I’ll get some Ebony for you, and anything else you’ll need, okay? Sound good?”

 

It really was a testament to how off Ignis was that he didn’t protest in the slightest. The only time Noct left his side was to let him get dressed – he could still do that on his own, at least, even if it did take long enough for Noctis to worry for a couple minutes.

 

The Ignis that came out of the bathroom didn’t look like the one he’d seen only two days ago. This Ignis was… just different in so many ways.

 

How could someone change so much in so little time? Ignis was always so put together. So… composed and unfazed.

 

Right now, Ignis just looked small and drenched and cold. Even with his clothes back on, he didn’t look like he’d really dried off. His eyes were… vacant. Not observant and calculating like they should have been.

 

Noctis sprang off the couch, taking hold of Ignis’ arm and tugging him over to sit down. Ignis didn’t fight him. He sat with his hands clasped in his lap until Noctis returned with his coffee, and then he only spared it enough attention for a few small sips.

 

Noctis took a seat next to him. “So, uh, I don’t wanna talk about all the crap we went through with anyone yet, so I’m guessing you probably don’t either, but… well, I guess I’m here if you end up wanting to? Just… let me know so I can turn my left side to you.”

 

Ignis’ head jerked up suddenly, eyes somewhat more clear. “Your hearing…”

 

Noctis shrugged. “Could have been worse. S’posed to get a little better over the next few days.”

 

“But some of it _is_ permanent damage?”

 

Noctis nodded. “Just my right ear, though. The other one should heal up fully. Not… not as bad as what it looked like you were just going through…”

 

Ignis looked away, face burning with what Noctis knew was shame.

 

“ _Specs_ ,” Noctis snapped. Hell no. He would not have Ignis feeling ashamed of this. “You were _tortured,_ of course you might have a couple of issues.”

 

“It’s a weakness I cannot afford in my position. There is a chance someone would use that against me to get to you in the future–”

 

“Oh, bullshit! You tried to kill yourself to protect me. There is no one on this planet that could be a better Advisor than you! Besides, who else would even put up with me?”

 

That got the slightest hint of a smile. “Nevertheless… I must find a way to overcome this.”

 

“Yeah… me too.” Noctis tapped at his ear. “So, we can help each other out?”

 

“That seems agreeable.” Ignis’ nod was faint. “Noct… I only ask that you not speak of this to those close to us, particularly Gladio and Prompto. I don’t wish for them…” He trailed off.

 

“You… don’t want to burden them?” That was so Ignis.

 

“No, not quite, though I suppose that is a factor as well.” Ignis traced the edge of his mug with his thumbs. “It may seem selfish, but I don’t wish to be treated differently. I don’t want them to see me as…”

 

“Damaged…” Noctis filled in. He understood that. He really did.

 

“ _Precisely,_ ” Ignis whispered, and Noct couldn’t actually hear him, but he’d known Ignis long enough to figure out what he’d said.

 

“Okay. This stays between us unless you say otherwise. Promise.”

 

Ignis closed his eyes. “Thank you, Noct.”

 

Noctis clasped his shoulder. “Knowing you, I give it a month before you’re totally cured.”

 

Ignis snorted. “Your faith in me is flattering, but I don’t believe that’s how it works, Noct.”

 

“Well, however it works, I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

 

“Hmm.” After a few moments of silence, Ignis looked at the kitchen. “Can I interest you in some breakfast?”

 

Good grief. “No, Specs, you don’t have to do that. I’ll just get cereal.”

 

“It’s no trouble, Noct.”

 

“It is trouble for you, and I don’t want to–”

 

“Noct.” Ignis leveled him with a flat stare. “Let me cook something.”

 

…Oh. So, in other words, Ignis _needed_ to cook something.

 

“…Yeah, okay.” Therapeutic cooking. What would take a while and give Ignis the time he needed? Maybe baking. “Pastries?”

 

Ignis snorted. “Hardly a healthy breakfast, but I suppose I can make an exception, so long as you eat some eggs as well. You need protein.”

 

Noctis bobbed his head eagerly. “Yeah, I can live with that arrangement.”

 

“Good.”

 

“…Anything I can help with?”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t object to an extra pair of hands.”

 

“Cool. Then for after breakfast, I’ve got a deal for you.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Noctis grinned. “I will go along with your dance lessons for two whole hours with zero complaints… if you play on the PlayStation with me afterwards.”

 

Ignis chuckled, shaking his head. “I believe you have a deal, Your Highness.”

 

Good. This was just… good.

 

Neither of them were really okay at the moment, but they would be eventually. They’d help each other get there.

 

And he was so looking forward to seeing Ignis try _this_ game. Maybe it wasn’t the most stress-free, but it would definitely take his mind off everything that had happened. Maybe give him a heart attack too, but, eh, it would be worth it.

 

“Cool. But you’re gonna need another nap so we can stay up and play.”

 

Ignis frowned. “Why not just play and then go to sleep normally?”

 

“Oh, because this _has_ to be played at night.” Oh, man, this was going to be awesome.

 

“…Consider me concerned.”

 

Noctis couldn’t wait to see how many main cast members Ignis wouldn’t be able to save in Until Dawn. He never thought he’d actually get him to agree to play it. “You should be.”

 

Noctis wondered how he’d do compared to the rest of them.

 

* * *

 

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

Ignis slowly pulled his eyes open, sitting up from his awkward position on the couch and giving his neck a rub. He and Noct hadn’t even made it to their beds after that… rather interesting experience Noct had labeled as a game. As much as he was loath to admit it, Ignis had actually enjoyed himself quite a bit with the game mechanics of having to accept what his choices caused with no ability to reload and Noct’s unending amusement. The banter they’d shared over the last few hours was something he would look back on with great fondness. Not to mention the rather more serious discussions they’d had…

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

Ignis grabbed the phone off the armrest, intending to make sure it was nothing important and then silence it so he and Noct could both get some further rest.

 

Instead, his hand froze as he read the first message.

 

**Prompto:** Got out of the city all safe and sound.

 

**Prompto:** Thanks for the help with Biggs and Wedge, kid. I owe you and Specs both.

 

Ignis blanched at the text. Noct was texting Aranea? Better yet, he’d helped her get Biggs and Wedge out of the city? He’d failed to mention _that_ particular set of details while the two of them spent the last eight hours alternating from making sarcastic comments and holding their breath as Ignis tried to keep the characters alive.

 

Ignis hesitated, but then decided to type out a reply.

 

**Noctis:** I’ll be certain to pass along your message when His Highness awakens.

 

**Prompto:** Specs? That you?

 

**Noctis:** Yes.

 

**Prompto:** <Confetti Emoji> Glad you aren’t dead.

 

Ignis smiled faintly.

 

**Noctis:** Likewise.

 

**Prompto:** Thanks, by the way. Didn’t expect you to take an actual bullet for me.

 

**Noctis:** I had intended to push you out of the way… Taking the bullet myself was hardly my plan.

 

**Prompto:** lol Still. Thanks. I owe you one. If you’re ever outside the city and need a favor, don’t hesitate to call.

 

Ignis paused. She truly meant that? Well, she was certainly a valuable ally to have. That would be an excellent resource to call upon. And… he couldn’t say he’d terribly mind seeing her again. Perhaps she’d be willing to aid him in improving his lance work as well.

 

**Noctis:** Do you intend to hold onto Prompto’s phone permanently?

 

**Prompto:** Maybe. <Smirking Emoji>

 

**Prompto:** I’ll find a way to keep in touch. You still gonna have the same number as is on this phone?

 

Keep in touch. That sounded a fair bit more personal than calling in a debt at some point.

 

**Noctis:** I destroyed that phone, so I’m not certain if I’ll retain the same number for the new one or not.

 

**Prompto:** Well, let me know when you find out.

 

**Noctis:** Certainly.

 

**Prompto:** Great. So, how’s your night going?

 

…Speaking of more personal.

 

**Noctis:** …Interestingly. I just spent the last several hours with Noct laughing at me as I attempted to save a group of teenagers from being brutally murdered, though I dare say several of them deserved it.  

 

**Prompto:** lol What the hell?

 

**Noctis:** A game His Highness was keen on watching me play. I admit, I found the mechanics compelling.

 

**Prompto:** Good for you. You need to relax for a while.

 

**Noctis:** …I wouldn’t call that game particularly relaxing with all its jump scares and gore, but it did keep my attention diverted for a while.

 

**Prompto:** Well, that’s the important thing.

 

**Noctis:** And you? How has your night fared?

 

**Prompto:** Currently updating my resume to include ‘no kidnappings’ and ‘if you’re an imperial,  <Middle Finger Emoji>’

 

Ignis snorted.

 

**Noctis:** A wise choice, if you ask me.

 

Ignis sat back on the couch, smiling softly as he waited for her reply. Perhaps his life was a mess at the moment, but maybe something good could come of these terrible events.

 

Only time would tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, guys, it has been one heck of a ride! Thank you all soooooo much for your comments/1favorites/kudos! *hugs* 
> 
> I hope you will join me for the sequel! I’ve already posted the first chapter. :) Prepare yourselves for some aftermath feels, angst, fluff, and humor as Ignis tries to smart his way through Until Dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> All right, my fandom friends... let's hop in the Regalia and buckle up for the ride...


End file.
